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Double Jeopardy! 


A NOVEL 


BY 


W; C/^TILES 


NEW YORK 

THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1 


4< w Oo 


Copyright 1898 
By A. C. GUNTER 
All rights reserved 


*■ "Of i'-, .>7 ■ • 

^ «.V'J w i 


*%N 


JAH3-1G39 




l^vv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. “ Let me save you for my own sake . 5 

II. “ You are both under arrest ” 17 

III. “ There is hope yet ” 25 

IV. “Try your hand with sparrows on the 

the wing” 32 

V. “ You have hunted them to their death ” 38 

VI. “ I am jealous of the sea” 42 

VII. “Are you satisfied, Count Golfi ?”.... 50 

VIII. “ I will marry him” 60 

IX. “ We live and die together ” 70 

X. “ I have done it ” 75 

XI. “ If he were but dead ” 86 

XII. “Ah ! you love him. That is the secret 

of it all “ 92 

XIII. “A man is watching this house ” 98 

XIV. “ It is time to be rid of the spy ” 105 

' XV. “ He loved you, you loved him ” no 

XVI. “James Smith, at your service, sir”.. 117 

XVII. “Have I seen a ghost, then ?” 121 

XVIII. “ There will be no wedding ” 127 

XIX. “ An unwelcome telegram ” 134 

XX. “ Why have you betrayed us ? ” 141 

XXL “ You have been dreaming ” 147 

XXII. “ Did you come in answer to this ? ”. . . 155 

XXIH. “ I guard, myself, this time ” i6i 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXIV. “ I will wait until she goes to prison 164 

XXV. “ Stop him, for God’s sake ” 170 

XXVI. To-day I surrender life — and speak ” 181 

XXVII. “ It is I who love you ” 189 

XXVIII. “Now die” 197 

XXIX. “ Good evening, Mr. Vanderveer ..... 210 

XXX. “ I will show you the cord, then ” 216 

XXXI. “Let this man see how they do it in 

St. Petersburg 225 

XXXII. “I have kept my word” 234 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY! 


CHAPTER I. 

“ LET ME SAVE YOU FOR MY OWN SAKE.” 

“ And I say the peril is terrific. She will be ar- 
rested; she will die.” 

“ Not in America.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Not by the law.” 

“ By the law — or by assassination.” 

The brilliantly-lighted room turns ghostly to the 
vision of Harris Vanderveer. He looks at the ugly 
figure before him, but he can not doubt the honesty 
and sincerity of Benonski. 

The music from the little orchestra hidden by banks 
of flowers prevents the conversation from being over- 
heard by others. The room is full of well-dressed 
people. Vanderveer, young, blonde, romantic, and 
handsome as a god, looks away from the Russian and 
across the room. 

She is there — the one. How his eyes light as they 
rest upon her! Brauna, glory of all his world — pas- 
sionate incarnation of woman’s splendor! In her 
smile Vanderveer lives. The Russian follows his 
glance, and presently recalls him to himself and to the 
situation by saying, gloomily: 

It may be too late to save her from arrest. What 
will you do? ” 

“ It was a political crime; done in Russia.” 

“ Not so. To every intent it was a personal crime. 
And it was done in New York.” 

“Who killed Ferrand Merki?” 

“ His wife, Brauna Alvaroff Merki.” 


6 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


That lie I shall live to destroy. What is the evi* 
dence? ” 

“ It is complete. She was seized in the very act.” 

“ In the act? ” 

“ Yes. He gasped and died on the instant the\ 
seized her. Three times she had plunged her little 
stiletto into his heart. Then she was free. Holy Czar! 
think you that I blame her? Not I. He was a devil, 
I say.” 

“ Why do they follow her now? Who is doing it? ” 

“ Ah ! That is the thing that I do not understand. It 
is believed that she, or Alvaroff — her father — betrayed 
the Moscow league to the officers of the government. 
That would be sufficient motive.” 

It is Russia in New York then; and this occurred 
more than seven years ago. I have heard that there 
is a Russia in New York. So! They reach out 
their hands over fiye thousand miles of sea and land to 
strike down a woman. And all for revenge. They 
call that Nihilism.” 

“ Perhaps not all for revenge, Mr. Vanderveer. She 
is beautiful. She turns the head. And there is money 
— a million dollars. Do not think, sir, that you are the 
only man that ever smiled in the presence of this 
goddess.” 

The Russian raises his eyebrows in a grimace. 
Then, assuming a more serious attitude, he continues: 
“ But she is worth saving, and at the worst there will 
be a way that you know nothing about. But not yet — 
not yet. Come; follow me to the balcony for a min- 
ute. You will see a man there in a footman’s garb. 
He will pretend to pay no attention to you. He has 
come from Mercer Street, nevertheless. They have 
succeeded in calling in the local authorities. That 
means that they are sure they have a clear case.” 

“ The house is watched, then? ” 

“More than that: it is surrounded. Russia is not 
only in New York City; Russia is here, Russia is ev- 
erywhere where the wronged exiles of her soil have a 
grievance to avenge. And before the evening is gone 
Russia will make a display. It is for us to try to out- 
wit Russia.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY, 7 

The Russian thereupon abruptly leaves Vanderveer’s 
side and disappears through the curtained arch lead- 
ing to the main hall. Vanderveer, glancing about to 
note whether his actions are observed, follows in the 
same direction. 

To the world Dr. Mark Carrington and his daugh- 
ter Brauna are ordinary residents of the metropolis. 
They have wealth and refinement, and make their sum- 
mer home at this elegant seaside retreat known as 
Graystone. In New York Carrington affects the 
practice of surgery, and attends to the investment of 
his great wealth. Their standing in the society where 
they have been introduced has been assured, not only 
by their culture and wealth, but by the beauty of 
Brauna and the evident high character of both. 

Yet they have a history of exciting interest, entirely 
unknown to the people nearest to them. The history 
of a danger and a crime. To-night this history re- 
turns and threatens them. 

Even as the beautiful parlors of Graystone resound 
with the merry laughter and chattering voices of a 
score or more of pretty girls and an equal number of 
interesting bachelors of high degree, from neighbor- 
ing villas and the unpretentious but rather exclusive 
nearby hotel. They are flirting, singing, laughing, 
and talking, as they group, disperse, and regroup, 
rustling and flitting in the kaleidoscope of endless ac- 
tivities, that mean as much and as little as society play 
usually signifies. The rooms are gay with color and 
rich with the perfume of flowers, banked and trailed 
and wreathed and festooned about all the walls and 
tables. In every line and shadow and grouping of the 
elegant house are evidences of taste, culture, and 
wealth. 

They are arranging a piece of amateur acting to be 
given later in the evening. As they plan and chatter, 
John Waters, tall, quiet, gray-eyed, and of perfect ad- 
dress, converses with Blanche Evanston, leaning in- 
dolently on the corner of the piano. 

‘‘ Oh, it is a charming house,’’ Blanche is saying, 
with a smiling face the while, as if life were a con- 
tinual and perennial charm to her. “ It must be 


8 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


lovely to be so rich. They say her father was a con- 
tractor in some foreign country — Russia was it? ” 
Possibly.” 

“ Did not you tell me she is a Russian? ” 

“ Oh, did I? I must have heard some one say so, 
then. There is no end to the things one may hear, 
especially if one talks with you ladies.” 

“ Horrid slanderer! But if only you knew how 
many things we don't tell.” 

“ As for them we have only to wait,” laughs Waters, 
showing his white teeth in a little smile. ” But I sup- 
posed you enjoyed her confidence. You and she are 
close friends, I have noticed.” 

“ Actual chums, Mr. Waters. Do we not ride or 
drive together every day? And when Brauna isn't at 
my house, I am at her house. But she seldom talks 
about herself; neither do I. But you see I refrain in 
my case because I want to be honest. It wouldn't 
do to tell all the truth about me, don't you know. 
Can't you say some good thing about consistency like 
that? ” 

” If you didn't mean that your friend keeps silent 
about herself for a similar reason.” 

“ Brauna? Not at all. It's from modesty. She 
hasn't anything but good she can say of herself. She’s 
the soul of all goodness. Let no one dare deny that 
or we will quarrel, Mr. Waters.” 

‘‘ Oh, not with me. I never doubted.” 

“ And, of course, you are equally convinced that 
my opposite reasons for not talking of myself are 
sound, I suppose?” 

' “You said it yourself. If you insist on disparaging 
yourself — but why do you think her a Russian? ” 

“ I don’t know. I'm sure; unless you or some one 
told me. The name isn’t Russian. ‘ Carrington ’ 
must be English or American.” 

“True; but people often change their names, es- 
pecially foreigners.” 

Blanche looks at him placidly, with eyes as blue as 
the sky, and a face as faultless and innocent as the face 
of a new doll. Had John Waters been less skilled he 
might easily have believed that she was as innocent as 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


9 


she appears. Did Blanche know anything of Brauna? 
Or is she simply trying to sound him? Waters is not 
sure. 

But glancing about the room several things alarm 
him. He sees among the guests men whose faces he 
knows all too well. He has observed, a little earlier, 
the strange footman upon the balcony. And in the 
back parlor are two or three other servants, who more 
than once under his eyes have made a signal that John 
Waters recognizes. Nevertheless this man goes on 
with the light conversation, while the young lady 
makes pretty sallies and various little jests with him 
in the flow and interflow of bright repartee, not ob- 
serving how his attention is distributed. At length 
Waters, framing a plan in his mind, looks straight at 
Blanche, saying nonchalantly: “The fellow with the 
lavender tie and side whiskers now — what is his name? 
I think I saw you smiling at him a moment since.” 

Was it a fancy, or did he catch a little paling of the 
carnation of her cheeks and a slight, swift gleam of 
alarm in her blue eyes? But instantly, if it were so, 
they are gone, and she looks across to the man he has 
pointed out, as unruffled as before. 

“That man?” she says, with a little drawl, as if 
bored. “ Oh, that is Mr. Godby; one of the gentle- 
men from the hotel.” 

“ Comes recommended, I suppose? Who vouches 
for him, I wonder? Looks a trifle out of place, doesn’t 
he? Doesn’t seem to know what to do with his 
hands.” 

“ I don’t know who recommends him; he is good 
enough, I fancy. They say he is rich too. I’ll intro- 
duce you if you like.” 

“ Rich is he? Awkward, too. No, thank you; some 
other time will do. I can’t give you up yet, merely to 
be introduced to a doubtful person like Mr. Godby.” 

Blanche laughs a steely sort of laugh, and John Wa- 
ters scrutinizes her closely while her eyes are wander- 
ing in some other direction. He believes somehow 
that she knows more about Mr. Godby than she has 
confessed. 

But after a few more jests with Blanche he makes his 


iO DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

way cautiously across the room by little stages that 
betray no purpose that he has to any eye. He thinks 
it is time to warn her. He no longer has any doubt. 
The net is spread, and this fair woman who is the bird 
about to be snared is evidently unsuspicious and un- 
prepared. 

Waters gossips a little here and jests a little there, 
while making his way toward her. 

“ Ah, Miss Carrington, busy time it is with you, I 
see,” he says, getting near her at length. “ But you 
entertain us all as if it were a mere nothing with you.” 
Then in a tone so low that she alone hears him, this 
fine master of strategy, being close at her side, says 
quickly: “ Separate yourself from this company at once. 
I must speak to you alone. Show no surprise to any 
one. You are watched.” 

Brauna turns on him nevertheless with a plainly 
startled expression. 

He had ever been a little mysterious to her. One 
day he has betrayed an alarming knowledge of Russia ; 
at another time he has seemed to be startled at the 
mention of certain Nihilists who had been appre- 
hended; but she has felt in him somehow the touch 
of a friendly spirit. 

“ Don’t speak,” he whispers. “ Take me with you 
anywhere, alone. Any excuse will do.” 

With the thought of possible dangers to be met, 
Miss Carrington instantly calms herself, saying sweet- 
ly, in the hearing of several of the guests: “ Oh, Mr. 
Waters, I promised to give you a task, and I will. 
Come along now, and bring in the vase I showed you. 
Right back, ladies! Mr. Waters is harnessed to service, 
I would have you observe.” 

She takes Waters’s arm and they leave the room 
together, both laughing back at the gay company 
as they go. Waters, going out, sees one of the waiters 
whom he had before noted making the familiar sig- 
nal, leave his place, and follow them. He also sees 
Godby separating himself from his group and glanc- 
ing after his prey. 

“ Do not go out of the house,” says Waters, in her 
ear. “ Go to the very center of the room — the music 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


1 1 

room or library — and sit so that no one can come with- 
in earshot without our knowledge.’’ 

Seeing the intensity of his manner she obeys, then 
asks, as a trembling sigh escapes her: 

“ Who are you, and what do you know of me, Mr. 
Waters? ” 

She looks at him with a haggard smile, unable to 
read his cold, pale face. 

“ I know,” says John Waters, very quietly, “ that 
this house is full of detectives. Some of them are Ni- 
hilists, two of them carrying the badges of the secret 
service of New York, although it is, of course, un- 
known to the authorities that they are Nihilists. But 
every one of them will be glad to help in the arrest 
of yourself and your father, not because Ferrand Mer- 
ki was found dead one day, stabbed with a stiletto, but 
for reasons that I do not know, but wish to dis- 
cover.” 

Brauna scarcely suppresses a shriek that is even be- 
ginning to issue from her lips. “ Are you a friend or 
an enemy? ” she gasps. 

A strange expression creeps into John Waters’s face. 
There is a hot red flush upon his cheeks; into his eyes 
leaps a flame of intense passion that, could she see 
it, would warn her of all that he wishes to say. 
But for a little he averts his face, but quickly com- 
manding himself, he replies, very gently: “ Friend, yes; 
I am a friend of any whom I can help — of you more 
than of any other — it may be.” 

“ Of me, and of him — my father? You are a friend, 
as against those who seek to destroy us?” 

“ Let that pass. If I were not your friend would I 
be here, think you, to warn you of this peril? But let 
us suppose I am against no one.” 

“ It matters not. You have spoken of a history 
long buried in the dust of the past. Why are we 
followed? It should have been forgotten.” 

“ I say so, too. But some one has revived the past. 
I mean to make that plainer to myself later on.” 

“ And you will be a friend to me? ” 

“ A friend! ” he echoes. “ Have you not read 
my heart? I adore you — you; you — the only 


12 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


woman under heaven’s stars for me, Brauna! Let me 
save you for my own sake! ” 

It is a revelation so sudden, so intense, that it brings 
the swift color rushing to Miss Carrington’s cheeks. 

“ Oh, Mr. Waters — for the love of heaven! No! no! 
You must know — do you not know — that I can not 
Indeed you know why.” 

I do. Mr. V^anderveer.” 

She droops her burning face. In a moment Waters 
says, huskily: 

” I am only another fool moth singed in the flame, 
Miss Carrington. Vanderveer is lucky as an angel, 
and I am not. But I don’t hate the fellow. It is good 
to love as I love you, even if — if it gripes my heart 
like a fatal wound. And you are sure there is no hope 
for me at all? ” 

“ None; I love Mr. Vanderveer.” 

‘‘ It is a sacred confidence that you give, and shall be 
sacredly respected.” 

“ And you will be my friend — still? ” 

“ When my life can serve you I shall lay it 

DOWN AS THE MOST WORTHLESS THING I HAVE.” 

He speaks very quietly as he looks sadly into her 
beautiful face, his own grown haggard as in a moment 
with the pangs of a crushed hope. 

“ Tell me, then, how serious is this danger,” she 
begs, her terror beginning to return. 

“ Trust me. The danger is here. It is not safe for 
you nor for me that we should long remain together. 
Whatever you may see to-night to shake your faith 
in me, wait patiently. Follow the course of action that 
you see plainly before you. Above all, pay no heed to 
any plans that may be made for you by the man whom 
you love. He can not possibly save you. Probably 
he will try. In fact, he is very certain to try. Let him 
think whatever he pleases for the present. On no ac- 
count are you to inform him or any one that I am 
operating. Speak my name to no one.” 

“ You say that you know all, Mr. Waters. Then 
you know what may be possible of me — of my history ; 
what some are willing to say against me. I shall be 
arrested for — for — murder, shall I not? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


13 


Yes.’’ 

“ Which I did not commit.” 

Which you did not commit.” 

And the chain of circumstances forms a completed 
evidence, it is said. There will be a clear case against 
me.f^ 

I — I have heard so.” 

“ They will drag me into the courts.” 

If they can.” 

“ That is a blow against me, and also to destroy my 
father, is it not? ” 

“ Yes. If your destruction does not destroy him with 
the grief of it, then he will nevertheless be destroyed 
in some other way, if possible.” 

Mr. Waters, who is doing this? Tell me, if you 
know.” 

“ The enemy works in secret, Miss Carrington. I 
can not yet trace him, nor identify his motive.” 

“ Is it ? Mr. Waters, do you know the code of 

the Nihilists? ” 

“ I have heard; but whatever they are doing in this 
case I am sure they are not acting alone. Merki — who 
was killed — was not a good Nihilist. There is no code 
of the Moscow League that would set that organiza- 
tion to revenging his death after seven years of silence. 
Nevertheless, I am equally certain that the League is 
interested. Behind them, or with them, is some more 
powerful and direct interest. A new influence in this 
matter has come into the League itself. It looks as if 
somewhere there has been added to the desire of the 

League to punish your ,the man that was supposed 

to have betrayed the League — a personal motive that 
seems aimed against you also. Merki was killed. But 
who were Merki’s friends?” 

“ Alas, I knov/ not.” 

“ He was your husband? ” 

In name only, and for a day only.” 

“ You did not love him? ” 

“ I abhorred him — I hated him.” 

“ Yet you married him? ” 

“Yes; there was indeed a marriage.” 

“ It was your stiletto that killed him,” 


14 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


‘‘Yes; but not in my hand. I had not seen the little 
weapon for months.” 

“ Yet the assassin, whoever he may have been, was 
never seen. It appears that no one found out how he 
could have come into that house, nor how he went out. 
Who were the men who seized you on that day? ” 

“ Two servants of Merki.” 

“ It may have been one of these that killed him.” 

“ That would have been impossible. I heard him 
shriek, struggle, and fall. He was barely beyond the 
curtain in the adjoining room. I rushed in at once. 
My cries aroused the servants. They were both down 
in the court. I was looking out of the window when I 
heard his shriek and saw them there. Then they 
rushed in. They thought there had been a quarrel, 
and that I had stabbed Ferrand. That is all.” 

“ I have heard something before. I am well in- 
formed, and am glad to know the matter from your 
own lips. Now we must talk no more.” 

He walks away, saying, as he goes: 

“ Remember my instructions.” 

He has kept his eyes about him all the while, look- 
ing here and there, and fancies that there are signs in 
the stir of the curtains that hang from the doorway that 
it is time to separate himself from the imperiled wo- 
man. She is obliged to summon to her aid all her 
womanly resolution to enable her to rise with a smile 
and follow Waters back to the gay parlors. He has 
exercised the wit to carry back with him a vase that he 
has found on a near table. 

Re-entering the parlors he sees Mr. Godby glancing 
about, and studiously avoiding him. Waters goes 
directly to Godby, with a little gesture that brings his 
man to a standstill with a stare of astonishment in his 
face. 

“ It is a good deal of a Siberian evening,” says Wa- 
ters, looking Godby in the face. Then, gently push- 
ing him out of earshot of the chattering women whom 
he was affecting to entertain. Waters says, in a lower 
tone, heard only by Godby: 

“ You are not to make the arrest until I say the 
word. I am in charge, if you please.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


15 


“You? Not that I know about. I was sent by De 
Lani, and by Oxby, the New York chief. We are not 
to figure unless — it is to be a civil arrest.” 

“ Sent t)y De Lani; so was I. Also by the chief’s 
chief. Here is my card.” 

Godby reads the card with astonishment and awe. 

“ Then you could not have been sent. You are the 
whole thing. Oxby did not tell us that you were to be 
here in person. How is it?” 

The man stares at Waters, unable to recover at onc« 
from his surprise. 

“ Oxby is a shrewd enough fellow for ordinary 
work. This matter must be a sure thing. He should 
have come himself. When I found that he had not 
done so, I decided at the last moment that the affair 
is too important to leave to the department men, es- 
pecially in view of the victim’s ability. He escaped 
once, you may know, so I am here to oversee. Repeat 
your orders from Oxby.” 

“ We are to take the girl, also her father. Oxby 
asserted that it is necessary to involve him. The cor- 
oner’s verdict at the headquarters specifies both. It 
is an affair seven years old.” 

“ Exactly. It was a murder. She does not look 
so very dangerous. But you will do your duty. How 
many men are with you? ” 

“ Four; two of them outside.” 

“ That will do. The thing will be simple and easy; 
but you are to look sharp. If she was one to ply her 
stiletto, she may be one to resort to something as bad 
when she finds herself in limbo. Remember, she gave 
them all the slip once — he too.” 

“ They will not be able to do that again, Mr. Wa- 
ters. 

“ I have heard of you, Godby; you are from France, 
I believe — from Paris, in fact. In France they are 
very sharp, are they not? ” 

Godby is uneasy under this question, quite palpably 
so, his eyes shift about while he looks around, as if he 
wanted to get away from the cool and steady gaze of 
his superior. 

“ In France,” he says, at length, pretending to 


l6 DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

laugh a little in a plainly forced fashion, “ they catch 
the greatest criminals easily. How did you guess that 
I have been in France? ” 

“ Merely by the accent, Mr. Godby. It is so, isn’t 
it?” 

“And you are very sharp to notice it. I flatter 
myself that my accent is even more English than my 
beard. But it is said that John Waters can see through 
a very thick stone wall with ease.” 

“ Thank you for the compliment. You have only 
to manage this affair well to bear out your commen- 
dation of the French. But you are to use no unneces- 
sary publicity, and no brutality whatever. Mind now; 
quiet work is the best. Do you know the details of 
the case? ” 

“No; only what the warrant reveals. It was a 
murder — seven years ago. She escaped arrest after — 
or before the coroner’s finding against her. The case 
has been revived, has it not? ” 

“ Palpably. There is a good deal behind, I have 
been told. That need not concern you, however. By 
the way, that is a very pretty girl there; Miss Evans- 
ton, I mean. You know her, I see.” 

Waters glances at Blanche Evanston, surrounded as 
usual by a little group of men, and then looks fixedly 
at Mr. Godby. He feels sure that there is a secret be- 
hind Godby’s shifting eyes, and believes him to be 
lying when he replies: “ Oh, yes; pretty as need be. 
Yes; a very little only — a mere summer acquaintance.” 

Waters laughs, and answers, lightly: 

“ You have a great liking for pretty women, Mr. 
Godby.” 

In spite of the cool, careless manner of Waters, 
Godby feels thin-shelled and uncomfortable before 
those steely and really terrible eyes. He is not only 
uneasy, but entirely uncertain of his ground. But he 
is here on a deadly errand. The scope of it he does 
not know, much less the quality and spirit of the mov- 
ing powers behind him. The situation is full of mys- 
tery to others besides Godby, and surcharged with 
all the elements of possible tragedy. The threatened 
victims of the conspiracy are Brauna and her father. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


17 


CHAPTER 11. 

“ YOU ARE BOTH UNDER ARREST.” 

Harris Vanderveer and Benonski come back from 
the balcony with a plan in their heads for saving the 
woman whom Vanderveer loves. At the slip below 
the long lawn is a swift little yacht. If they can get 
the fugitives aboard that yacht, favored by the dark- 
ness they may elude pursuit and escape. They believe 
that the house is surrounded, or at least well guarded 
all about, and both- understand the nature of the peril. 
Brauna has told Vanderveer the story of the murder 
seven years ago and the story of the dreadful accusa- 
tion against her and her former escape from it. He 
stakes his faith and his future happiness upon her in- 
nocence and truth, and loves her all the more, if pos- 
sible, on account of the peril that besets her. 

It seems plain to this anxious lover that the con- 
templated arrest must at all costs be prevented. At 
the same time he believes that he alone can save her, 
the only one who will even care to try. He thinks 
that once in the power of those who have hunted her 
down after so many years she will certainly be pur- 
sued to death. 

He believes that the power behind this pursuit is 
Russian. It is startling to his American experience to 
understand that such powers could operate in the day- 
light of modern life. Vanderveer has heard of the 
powerful league of Nihilist conspirators that have a 
home in New York. This blow may have come from 
them, or it may even be a complication that reaches to 
St. Petersburg. He has been told only that seven years 
before, a Russian officer, a Nihilist and a conspirator, 
has been struck down in a quiet house in Waverley 
Place by his own wife’s stiletto. That wife, married 
indeed, but a wife in name only, is the woman he loves. 
What powers have now risen in the night to avenge 
this murder upon her who was guiltless of the crime he 
knows not. But wrapped in the flame of her beauty 
like melting mist in the embrace of the morning sun- 
shine, he has thenceforth eyes only that he may look 


i8 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


on her, and ears only that he may dwell in the music of 
her flutelike voice, and wit only that he may think 
on this divine creature who had filled all horizons and 
pervaded all spaces, and transformed this elegant so- 
ciety idler with the touch of a new passion that whelms 
him in its depths. 

He might not be capable of sustaining such an in- 
fatuation, for Vanderveer was not, with all his gener- 
ous disposition and romantic sentiment, of the stuff of 
which consistency and faithfulness are made. Yet he 
has a deal of a sort of courageous and chivalrous devo- 
tion, and thrills at the thought of risking life itself if he 
has the chance in behalf of his adored one'. 

On his return to the parlors his first move is to com- 
municate with her. She has stilled as best she can the 
tumult of her mind after her interview with Waters. 
Aided by Miss Evanston and several other ladies, 
she is arranging the stage on which their little theat- 
ricals are to be presented. He notes how she sur- 
passes them all with her almost matchless beauty. 

Yet there were many to say that the choice is al- 
most equal between Brauna and Blanche. Blanche is a 
sweet creature, with the artless affectation of a child. 
In her ordinary moods she has not a flaw. Pink and 
white she is, and witty as a philosopher. Her tongue 
is as fine and engaging as the prattle of a child, 
and there is a kind of chic about her pose, and style, 
and laughter, and repartee, that has made V anderveer 
wonder if she may not have been bred in Paris. And 
everybody says she is as artless as she looks. So open 
and natural is she in her expression! 

“ Such shirks you men are,” she is saying, as she 
pouts her red lips at Vanderveer, approaching. “ Why 
should you not work a little, too? Only — well, you 
would merely bungle everything; men always do.” 

She flashes at him her fine eyes, and even for' the 
moment diverts him from his contemplation of the 
goddess. 

“ True, my dear Miss Evanston. My hands are all 
too unskilled for such delicate work.” 

Then, seizing a favorable moment amid the merry 
tumult, he says swiftly in Brauna’s ear: ‘‘For God’s 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 1 9 

sake, grant me an interview. You are beset. This 
house is full of spies. You must escape.” 

“ Be prudent. I know all,” she answers, quietly. 

He is startled and withdraws a little. Then, under 
cover of a burst of music from the orchestra he says, 
earnestly : “ I have provided a way to escape, Brauna. 
I will see to it that no one shall harm you.'' 

The trembling girl struggles with herself a little, half 
tempted to yield to this offered protection and commit 
her fortunes to his care. Surely he is the proper per- 
son to care for her in this hour, for he loves her. But 
the words of John Waters are still ringing in her ears. 
He has warned her that her lover will try to rescue her. 
But will it not be at great risk? And can he cope with 
this conspiracy? Brave as he is, he can not have 
measured the subtle and powerful nature of the forces 
arrayed against her. The conviction is upon her that 
Waters, not Vanderveer, is the man for this emer- 
gency. 

She turns her dark eyes upon the man she so ten- 
derly loves and in them he reads the adoration of her 
soul. Then, in a low, fond whisper that thrills him like 
music, she says: “ I love. you.” 

Vanderveer, hearing this delicious woman whisper 
these three words, would have spurned Paradise in 
comparison. 

“ Do not fear,” she continues. “ I know the danger. 
I believe 1 shall escape. Ask nothing, dear. Wait 
and watch.” 

“ No, no; listen to me, Brauna. Benonski has gone 
to the boat. When I jive the word, here on this 
stage, follow me through the window to the balcony — 
the little balconv at the east side. There will be a 
ladder ” 

‘‘ Wait, my love. We should be cut off instantly. 
The house is doubtless surrounded and watched. 
There will be a better way. Do not for my sake — for 
your own sake risk anything needlessly. You are 
too rash, my love. Wait! ” 

There is above her turbid emotions a calm and de- 
cisive manner that half astonishes yet half vexes Van- 
derveer. He wishes her in this hour to feel entire 


20 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


dependence upon him and to trust herself completely to 
his protection. Foolish lover! 

She seems to read his thought in the sudden gloomy 
drooping of his passionate eyes. “ You must not 
doubt me, my love,” she murmurs, in a slow, fond 
way. “ It is not from the least doubt of your inten- 
tions. But I am sure you have not measured the sit- 
uation as I have. Do nothing at all, dear, unless you 
see that all is lost without you. I am not friendless.” 

“ Who, then, is working for you? Tell me.” 

“ I will; but not now. Wait; all will be well, I 
hope. But papa is coming. Oh, heaven! that can 
only mean that he has seen danger. He too has come 
to warn me. He would not have left his chamber at 
this hour but for some very good reason. Let me go 
to meet him, at once.” 

A tall man with drooping, heavy gray moustache 
and dark eyes, of which Brauna’s seemed but a mere 
glorious duplicate, is passing across the parlors, greet- 
ing the guests with a courtly grace that sits upon him 
like a thing of nature. This man Alvaroff, known 
here as Dr. Carrington, has once escaped from the 
toils of a web woven about him in years gone by in 
another land, where he has suffered with patriots in a 
cause that seemed holy. His suffering has given to 
his character a dignity that nevertheless outwardly 
veils a mind alert, resolute, and resourceful. 

To-night, sitting in his chamber, gazing at the pages 
of a book that he is not reading, he has heard on his 
door a light and peculiar rapping. Hearing it he is 
startled and astonished. It is not that such a sound is 
totally unexpected, but it is because the manner of the 
curious repetition made by the person rapping at once 
transports this man in sudden imagination to Rus- 
sia, and flashes upon liim a history that he had hoped 
never to review. 

He knows that it is not a rap merely, but also a sig- 
nal that says to this man plainly : “ You are in the 
PRESENCE OF ENEMIES. Arouse, AND ESCAPE.” In- 
stantly, from the impulse of an active energy that 
flashes into his face, he rises and opens the door. 

No one is in sight. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDV. 


21 


But he is neither deceived nor surprised. 

He had not, in fact, expected to find any one at the 
door. But with a very accurate apprehension of the 
methods of the person who must have rapped out the 
signal, he looks up and down the door itself for a 
further sign of the visitor. 

Yes; there is a sign. 

A tiny ball of wax is sticking to the panel, a most 
innocent and inoffensive object indeed, as it would 
seem. But Alvaroff, seeing it, stands straight and 
white, staring at it as the confirmation of his fears. 

“ I thought so,” he says, under his breath. He draws 
a stiletto from some concealment under his robe, and 
swiftly pries off the little ball of wax. It is not 
larger than a child’s playing marble. He pricks it 
open with his dagger to find inside a bullet of lead foil, 
and within the lead a minute wad of tissue paper. This 
he carries into his chamber, carefully locking the door 
behind him. Under the light of his chandelier he 
reads the cipher, written in Slavic characters on the 
parchment — the secret cipher of the Moscow League! 

“ You and she will be seized to-night. Do nothing. 
Pay no attention to Vanderveer. If you can be saved 
at all it must be through the plans of 

“ Number 66.” 

“ He is here, then. That strange traitor that loved 
my daughter. I know not whether to bless him or 
curse him.” 

Alvaroff remembers that Number 66 has figured be- 
fore in his own history, and he does not yet know 
whether he is a friend or an enemy. But whatever 
villainous or interested motives actuate the man who 
has warned him, he believes that the warning itself is no 
false alarm. The warning he must credit and act 
upon. 

After seven years of peace in a new land, among new 
friends, tornados are now hurled at him out of his 
past. At him. and yet more at her, the only being left 
him in the world to love — his daughter. 

Exchanging his robe and slippers for a more pre- 
sentable apparel, he goes down to warn her. 


DOtfBLfi JEOPARDY. 




They meet as if carelessly, and no one could have 
understood the subtle play of glances between them. 
Yet each knows instantly that the other is on guard. 

Brauna, smiling on him as if telling him some care- 
less gossip, says, in the Russian tongue, very low: “ I 
know all. Thou art beset. Both thou and I are in 
deadly peril. ' The past is risen up that we thought 
forever buried. The hand of God has turned back the 
page.” 

John Waters is talking nearby with a pair of viva- 
cious belles, who chatter and laugh with him con- 
stantly, but every instant his glittering eyes look over 
their heads or between them to take in Brauna’s 
movements. 

In spite of her good attempt at confidence, Brauna 
has been feeling some inevitable misgiving about 
Waters. He is so secret, so tremendous in his per- 
sonality! If he should prove to be unswervingly a 
friend he might indeed move mountains to rescue her. 
But what if he should be willing to revenge himself for 
her refusal? Could he do it? Was this man capable 
of meanness and revenge? She has told him plainly 
that she loves another man. 

“Who has warned you, my love?” asks AlvarofI, 
speaking indeed to her, but all the time glancing 
about the apartments with his searching eyes. 

“ Vanderveer.” 

“ No one else? ” 

“ Yes; Mr. Waters.” 

“ Where is he? Point him out.” 

“There; yonder with those ladies.” 

Alvaroff looks, gives a start, and drops his eyes. 
Waters, on his part, who is reading everything in their 
interview very accurately, shifts his position and ap- 
pears not to be conscious that Alvaroff is looking his 
way. 

“ It is clear to me now, my daughter,” says Alva- 
roff, smiling. “ That man’s face was strangely fa- 
miliar to me when a month ago he began coming here. 
Why does he warn you? ” 

The flush of embarrassment and her drooping eyes 
answered. They did not escape her father’s observa- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 




tion. “ This man loves you. I have not told you all 
the secret history of the Russian days. He loved you 
in Moscow, seven years ago.” 

. “ Impossible.” 

“ It is true.” 

“ But I never saw Mr. Waters until I came to this 
place and he began coming with the others this very 
summer.” 

“ But I saw him. It may have been he who shot 
the guards at the Bouski Plaza. On the other hand, 
it may have been he who set the sleuthhounds of the 
government on our track, and frustrated the great 
conspiracy. In any case, ten days before you and I 
were seized, this man came to our house in Moscow. 
You were out of view, but it was you whom he would 
much rather have seen. He loved you; he had seen 
you often. At that time this man described the con- 
spiracy that was gathering around us. He declared 
that the government was warned of the plans of the 
League. He adjured me to flee; he denounced Merki ; 
he revealed his passion for you.” 

“ Oh ! And you never told me. Is he a friend, 
then?” 

“ I hope it, but I fear as much as I hope. It is he 
that has now for a second time warned us. When, 
tell me, did you learn that he loves you? ” 

“ To-night; and he assures me that he, and he alone, 
can save us now.” 

Alvaroff shrugged his shoulders. 

“ You refused his love? ” 

“ Yes.” 

''You have told Vanderveer?” 

" No.” 

" Vanderveer, then, knows nothing of our danger? ” 

" Yes; Benonski has seen something to alarm him. 
Benonski has told Vanderveer.” 

" And Vanderveer will attempt to save us.” 

" I— I— fear so.” 

" And you fear he will fail.” 

" Alas, my father; I know not how to act.” 

" There will be a way. Wait.” 

" Advise me. Tell me your intentions.” 


24 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ I, too, shall wait. If John Waters is a friend that 
will appear. I know men, and some are noble enough 
to save and help the woman who has wounded them. 
He is a Russian — or an American. And he is no or- 
dinary man. Either he is a remarkable devil, or a 
marvelous ” 

He pauses and smiles. 

“ But he warns me not to trust to Vanderveer’s ef- 
forts. I revolt from that, and yet I have the irresistible 
feeling that I should obey this man. I know not why, 
but at best Vanderveer is brave, impulsive, and a rash 
move might ruin everything.’’ 

At that moment some one creeps up behind Alvaroff, 
saying, in a most polite and insinuating tone: “ If you 
will please retire with your daughter to the library. 
A little matter of business.” 

Godby has exceeded his instructions. Alvaroff 
knows that the dread hour is come, and turning to 
Brauna, says, without a quaver in his voice: “ Let us 
retire to the library, my dear. This gentleman wishes 
to speak with us alone.” 

Vanderveer, who has never taken his eyes away 
from this glorious creature in her yellow robes, di- 
vines that the detectives will wait no longer for 
their prey. He is agonized between the plan that he 
has made and the imploring prayer of Brauna that he 
may be prudent. 

They are passing through the curtain. He feels that 
they are already in the clutches of an octopus, and that 
the conspiracy has been sprung. 

This conclusion, and the horror it produces maddens 
the lover. In an instant he has decided. The next 
instant he acts. As Godby and his prey disappear, 
Vanderveer, rushing after, seizes the snake and drags 
him to the floor. 

At the same instant John Waters slips through the 
curtains with two aids at his elbow. He stands sud- 
denly before Brauna and her father, and says, with a 
strange light in his face that neither of them under- 
stand: “I advise quietness. You are both under ar- 
rest. If you resist I shall put irons on you at once. 
We have a warrant in due form. Mr. Vanderveer, vou 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 2 $ 

are too precipitate. Give me the warrant, Mr. God- 
by.” 

Godby by this time has struggled to his feet. 

“ It is to you, then — you — that we owe this! ” hisses 
Brauna, now the burning embodiment of scorching 
and blazing scorn, as she towers to her height and 
fixes her flaming eyes on Waters. He gives her an 
instant glance and visibly cowers before her wrath. 

Then, seeing her, the idol of his soul, about to fall 
thus by damning treachery into the hands of her 
enemies, and, as he thinks, on her way to death, Van- 
derveer for the first time looks fully at Waters. His 
soul rages, believing that here at last is the seat and 
source of the danger. He gathers himself like a lion, 
and with an -oath of terrible rage this elegant trifler 
flings himself at the throat of his enemy. 


CHAPTER III. 

“ THERE IS HOPE YET.’’ 

Vanderveer is but a child, dashing himself against a 
man of iron. Waters, merely stepping back a pace, 
knocks him down. No one could have said how he 
does it, and it seems incredible that he can do it with 
so little injury. 

Vanderveer is instantly seized by the men who have 
come in with Waters, and before he is quite recovered 
from the blow with which he has been felled, he is in 
irons. 

Brauna, panting and raging like a lioness, is only 
restrained by her father from flinging herself upon this 
cold fiend who has thus smitten and insulted the man 
she adores. 

‘‘Wretch! Infamy in man’s form. Oh, how I 
hate you! ” she cries, hoarse with anger. 

“ We regret Mr. Vanderveer’s precipitation. Miss 
Carrington,” replies Waters, very coolly. “ If you 
have influence with him I pray you advise him how 
useless his violence must be. 


26 


DOtJBLt: JEOPARDY. 


And Brauna, ready to break out in mad impreca- 
tions on this traitor’s head, is nevertheless checked by 
a strange, underlying awe in the presence of such a 
personality. 

“ There need be no further sensation, I should say, 
Mr. Carrington,” he continues, turning to Brauna’s 
father, from this moment ignoring her. “ If Mr. Van- 
derveer will agree to refrain from further interference 
we will not hold him to answer for resisting the of- 
ficers. I advise you,” turning to Vanderveer, “ to give 
me your word for it, sir.” 

How cool he is! How full of a certain powerful dig- 
nity that controls the situation. 

“ I will answer for Mr. Vanderveer,” replies the pu- 
tative Carrington. “ Quiet yourself, my love. Re- 
member my advice,” he continues, turningto his daugh- 
ter, who has again turned upon Waters with scornful 
words. She looks with passionate eyes upon her 
lover, and her heart smites her that she has refused 
his offers of assistance and protection, and has trusted 
to this icy fiend who now controls all their destiny. 

I see that you are too powerful and also too brutal 
to be resisted at present,” says Vanderveer, with bad 
grace. “ Take off the irons. I will wait for a more 
favorable opportunity.” 

“ Which you won’t get, my man,” says Godby, with 
a vindictive chuckle, enjoying the excess of Vander- 
veer’s humiliation, for has not this furious fellow torn 
Godby’s dress coat and thumped him down on the floor 
without ceremony? Waters, however, gives Godby a 
look that causes him to cringe and fall b^ack. 

“ Take off the irons, Martin,” commands Waters, to 
one of the subordinates. This being done. Waters 
goes on in the same cool, nerveless tones: “If you 
desire to save your friends any possible needless public 
exposure, Mr. Vanderveer, you are at liberty to make 
any such excuses to their guests in the parlor as you 
deem best.” 

“Where are you all, I wonder?” cries at this mo- 
ment the voice of Blanche Evanston, who the next in- 
stant opens the curtains and comes in. Waters, 
instantly equal to the occasion, laughs, in a voice so 


t)OUDLE JEOPARDY. 


57 


Careless and natural that even the doll is deceived: 
“ Ah, Adiss Evanston. You nearly caught us in a vast 
conspiracy. In fact, you are dreadfully untimely in 
springing out upon us thus. Vanderveer, be so good 
as to carry Miss Evanston off again until we finish our 
deep plot.” 

His coolness astonishes them all, but Vanderveer, 
even in his turgid emotion, has sense enough to be 
anxious to save Brauna from the spiteful scrutiny of 
gossips. He bites his lip, but forces himself to smile 
and to follow up the farce that Waters has begun. 

“ You hear. Miss Evanston,” he says. “ Mr. Waters 
has very suddenly assumed the duty of master of cere- 
monies, and I must obey. You are therefore to be car- 
ried off, as per orders from the ruling powers.” 

“ Oh! So I have to beg everybody’s pardon, do I? ” 
simpers Miss Blue-eyes. 

“ I guarantee I will coax the secret out of him, what- 
ever it may be, once I get him in my train,” she laughs, 
and, leaning on Vanderveer’s arm, leaves them. 

“ A nasty night to get out,” remarks Godby, as they 
are left, a group together. “ Put on rain cloaks 
and ” 

I will direct affairs now, if you please, Mr. God- 
by. I do not intend to leave this place to-night, and 
I do not care to risk any miscarriage by putting these 
prisoners into other hands. If they escape now it will 
be beyond your power or mine to explain the matter. 
There is no need to go to-night, since it is so rainy. 
The wind is beginning to blow a tempest. You will 
guard the prisoners here until daylight.” 

Waters says this in a low tone heard only by God- 
by. Then, turning to his prisoners, he adds: 

I trust you see your situation and the futility of 
making any attempt to escape. You will therefore 
please designate a room where you may pass the re- 
mainder of the night together. We have no wish to 
discommode you unduly by exposing you to the 
storm. Besides, in the morning we shall be in ample 
time for the train.” 

“ We seem to be in your power,” says Carrington. 

“ It is the power of the law, sir.” 


28 


DOtfBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Which you have undertaken to represent. There 
might be more gracious occupation under the cir- 
cumstances. But we shall be ready to go when you 
require.” 

” Will you lead the way, then, to such apartment as 
you may think best to occupy for the night? ” 

There is a sudden gleam in the eyes of Brauna as she 
looks meaningly at her father. But he seems not to 
be conscious of her mute hint. 

” We will go to the — to my room, papa,” she says, 
trying to conceal the agitation of her spirits. 

“ It will be necessary for Mr. Godby to accompany 
you, and, pardon me, he is instructed not to allow you 
to go beyond his sight. It is not necessary to remind 
you that a former escape has rendered this unusual 
caution imperative.” 

” No; not necessary. We remember very well. 
Our memory even reaches across the sea,” replies 
Carrington, bitterly. 

Waters gives no heed to this retort. 

“ I trust Mr. Godby most implicitly. He is as far be- 
yond the reach of bribes as he is beyond the possi- 
bility of betraying the interests of his superiors. 

Godby flushes, and a gleam of treacherous cunning 
lights in his eyes. 

” It would be entirely safe if we guarded the doors, 
I suppose, with a man just outside,” he ventures. 

“ It won’t do,” replies Waters, coldly. “ You will 
remain in the room. I hold you responsible for the 
safe-keeping of the prisoners. And remember what a 
good reputation you have at stake, Mr. Godby.” 

He gives an imperious gesture, and Godby leads the 
way to the stairs, the prisoners following. 

When they have entered the designated apartment 
Waters bids them sit down and says, coldly, to Car- 
rington : 

“ Let me advise you to resign yourself to the situa- 
tion, and if possible to sleep. You will find need for 
all the strength you have to-morrow, I imagine.” 

Outside, a heavy storm, sweeping in from the sea, 
is sending noisy splashes of rain against the panes. 
The wind in gusts is twisting the trees, and the in- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


29 


creasing boom and roar of the ocean is troubling the 
night. Blackness and terror cover the earth and 
veil the heavens. 

Waters goes over to Godby, remarking; 

“ I will be in the next room. If any emergency 
arises fire your revolver. I will hear, and come at 
once. . It will go hard with you if there is any slip in 
this business. But remember,” continues Waters, 
“ you are not to trouble the prisoners unnecessarily. 
You are here simply to guard them. And if you, sir, 
desire my presence for any reason, you or the young 
lady, Mr. Godby will call me. Permit me to take my 
leave.” 

He bows very low, not even meeting the flashing 
eyes of Brauna, as she tries again to whip him with her 
scorn, and leaves the room. 

He stations a man at the door outside. He is thor- 
ough and inexorable, so Mr. Godby decides, as the 
door closes behind him and the man is left alone with 
his prisoners. 

It is now half-past twelve. 

Down in the parlors the delicious Blanche Evanston, 
that doll-faced and voluptuous creature, is having a 
lovely time exploiting Vanderveer. She hangs on his 
arm and coos at him, triumphing over half a dozen 
other beauties, who are entirely convinced that he is 
adorable, and are willing accordingly to lure him 
away. 

“ Tell me that deep, deep secret now, you bad man. 
What plot were you all concocting out there in the 
hall? ” she cries, pausing a little to pin a pansy in his 
buttonhole. 

“ To be sure — it is nothing so very dreadful, then. 
In fact, I do not quite know what it is myself. But I 
believe it was a visitor from New York with some sort 
of disagreeable news. Some old acquaintance — a 
cousin, I believe — drowned a day or two since.” 

He is a very bad liar, and bungles the thing dread- 
fully. His nature is too transparent. Blanche im- 
mediately sees that he is floundering quite out of his 
element. 

“ Ah, some trouble. I am so sorry,” she sighs. 
'' Brauna will not return then? ” 


3 ^ 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ No; we must explain. Will you help me?” 

She glances at him, seeing his confusion. She 
knows in her heart that he is burning to flee to the side 
of his love. To keep him here she must pay the price. 

” Oh, by all means. I can lie better than you can, 
you fine simpleton,” she replies, rather saucily; then 
adds, almost in a whisper, “ But don’t for heaven’s 
sake stalk along with that Hamlet expression, Mr. 
Vanderveer.” 

Seeing the wisdom of this familiar advice he forces 
a smile, feeling really grateful to Blanche. For is she 
not a close and dear friend of his divinity? 

So these two go about, telling a nice artful lie about 
Brauna. And the dear ladies and the guileless gentle- 
men very politely believe all they say, reserving their 
real opinions, however, for private gossip. It goes 
around, however, that Brauna had news from New 
York — some friend suddenly dead — a severe shock — 
and so on. These fine society friends would be glad 
to know what had really happened, but they are too 
well bred to linger, so they take an early departure 
and have their gossip afterward. 

Blanche and Vanderveer are at last left, of them all. 
And she must go. The carriage is waiting for her. 
She can not longer detain him at her side. He tries 
not to be rude in disengaging himself from the charm- 
ing raillery and smiles of Miss Evanston. She passes 
out to her carriage, and he at once runs up the stairs. 
At the top of them there is a guard. 

” I am obliged to detain you, sir,” says the man, 
showing the badge on his coat. 

“ Where are your prisoners? ” 

“ In that room. Mr. Godby is on guard with them.” 

“ Where is that man Waters? ” 

“ In the adjoining room.” 

” Call him. I wish to talk with hkn.” 

The officer hesitates. 

” You have no orders to the contrary? ” 

” No.” 

“ Do as I request, then.” 

An hour has passed since Godby went on guard 
over the prisoners. Waters has placed this man on the 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


31 


upper landing as an extra precaution, purposely to in- 
tercept the lover. The guard, after a little more par- 
leying, goes to the room where Waters has shut him- 
self in and raps on the door. 

“ Martin,’’ calls a voice from within. 

“ Yes. Gentleman to see you. Mr. Vanderveer.” 

“ Rap at this door about daylight,” says Mr. Waters, 
from within. Then he suddenly opens the door and 
says to Vanderveer: “ Go to your — to some room, Mr. 
Vanderveer, and sleep. Nothing will change until 
daylight. Then, if you desire to see me, return to this 
door.” 

The cold smile that lingers in Waters’s face rouses 
the anger of Vanderveer. 

“Why do you follow this man? Who are you?” 
he asks, hotly. 

“ Come at daylight. Good-night, Mr. Vanderveer.” 

He shuts the door. Vanderveer has the sense not 
to press further his desire to see Waters, but to the 
guard he says: 

“ I wish to see and speak with Miss Carrington 
and her father.” 

“ Impossible! I advise you to wait, as Mr. Waters 
says.” 

The man being firm in his obedience, Vanderveer 
goes downstairs again. Here he finds Benonski, 
crouching in the shadow of a curtain. The Russian, 
on seeing Vanderveer, rises up, his squat figure and 
pale face set against the velvet, looking like some ugly 
shade himself. 

“ Our plan is beaten,” says Vanderveer, with a 
gloom in his voice and face that the Russian compre- 
hends at once. 

“ Yes. But something can doubtless be done. 
Where are they? ” 

“ In Brauna’s chambers. The man Godby is with 
them. Waters is in the next room. Can we not find 
a way to communicate? ” 

“ Holy Czar! In her chambers, say you? Come 
with me. There is hope yet. Move like a cat. 
Breathe like a zephyr. Come!'' 

There is a new light in the ugly face of the Russian. 


32 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Taking Vanderveer’s hand, he cautiously leads him 
through the hall. 


CHAPTER IV. 

TRY YOUR HAND WITH SPARROWS — ON THE WING.’^ 

The storm raging without, a mere elemental strife, 
could not be more tempestuous than the hearts with- 
in. 

When daylight struggles through the clouds the 
storm clears. Vanderveer and Benonski ascend the 
stairs, where the guard is still at his post, alert and 
sleepless. 

The lover and the faithful servant have not passed the 
night sleeping, nor have they passed it vainly. There 
is mud on their garments and a new light in their eyes. 

As they creep up the stairs Vanderveer says, in a 
low tone: 

“ To prolong to the last instant, to delay and dally 
— to make time; don’t forget — this is now our cue, Be- 
nonski,” 

The Russian answers with an intelligent flash of his 
eyes. 

“ You keep watch like a night hound, I see,” says 
V anderveer to the guard. ” It is coming daylight. 
Perhaps your superior will condescend to grant us an 
interview now?” 

” Shall I speak to him, sir? ” 

But Vanderveer and Benonski are in no haste to 
arouse Waters. Time! This was the thing they most 
desire, so use all their wit to keep Martin in conversa- 
tion as long as they decently can. They ply him with 
puzzling questions until their willingness to delay see- 
ing Waters begins to awaken a shade of suspicion that 
all is not as it should be. After nearly a half houT, 
therefore, Martin resolves to take the responsibility 
upon himself and arouse his chief. Vanderveer and 
the Russian dare not oppose this intention, when it 
is expressed, lest Martin should be alarmed. They ap- 
pear, therefore, to acquiesce in his purpose, and even 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


33 


pretend to be anxious to see Waters at once. They 
follow Martin, and in answer to their rapping, Waters 
presently opens the door. He is the same smiling, un- 
ruffled man who had shut Vanderveer out a few hours 
ago. 

“ Good morning, gentlemen. I observe that you are 
prompt with your appointment. Come in. You are 
Benonski, Carrington’s man, I think,” he remarks, 
turning to the Russian. “ I remember you.” 

He closes the door behind them and motions them 
to be seated. 

‘T have come to learn why you hunt these friends 
of mine, and what you mean?” 

Vanderveer stands straight as an oak tree in the 
forest, looking in Waters’s face, as in the face of a 
deadly enemy. 

“ There is a coroner’s verdict, is there not? She is 
accused of a — pardon me — of a crime.” 

“ Seven years have passed. Now you come here 
like a sneaking spy; you worm yourself into the so- 
ciety that gathers about her; you set a trap and seize 
her. You are not merely vindicating law. What, 
then, is your base motive, you hound! ” 

There comes a flush into Waters’s cheek, and a little 
glitter in his eye, as Vanderveer hurls at him this 
fierce, insulting epithet. 

“ You have an expressive vocabulary, Mr. Vander- 
veer. It does not seriously affect my composure, how- 
ever. May it not occur to you that I am making this 
arrest because I am ordered to do so by my superiors? ” 

“ I don’t believe it.” 

'' I can not undertake to regulate your beliefs, Mr. 
Vanderveer.” 

“ But you can give me satisfaction for your insults. 
I will allow that you talk in the language of a gentle- 
man, and I will forget, if you please, that you are, in 
fact, a spy and a scoundrel. Then you may not be dis- 
inclined to save yourself from being called also a 
coward. The rain has stopped, you will observe. Mr. 
Benonski will accompany us to the garden. Your 
man Martin, at the door, will serve for you, perhaps.” 

“ Revolvers, I suppose? ” says Waters, with a little 
laugh, as if at the absurdity of the challenge. 


34 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


They seem to be the only available things that will 
kill. I hope you have some knowledge of their use.” 

A strange smile runs over Waters’s face. He steps 
to the window. The birds are tuning their throats in 
the tree tops, and the light mists are suffusing with the 
touch of coming sunrise. 

Waters draws down the sash at the top and looks 
out. A little breeze fans his high, full brows. There 
is a sad, far-off look creeping into his gray eyes. He 
remains there for a moment, looking out across the 
drenched green grasses of the lawn, where the gleam 
of the inlet bounded the vision, beyond the whispering 
trees. He seems unconscious that any one is near. 
Then suddenly he says: 

“ Be so kind as to come to the window, Mr. Van- 
derveer.” 

Vanderveer, half fascinated by the tremendous mag- 
netism of this wonderful man, in spite of his tempta- 
tion to hate him vehemently, yields to this invitation, 
and approaches the window. Taking a small silver- 
mounted revolver from his pocket. Waters turns to the 
open casement, and looks out, remarking: 

” It will be a fine day, Mr. Vanderveer. See how 
the light mist yonder is tinting with the approaching 
sunbeams. Nature is at her best after her storms. 
These quick southeasters are great fresheners of our 
seaside landscapes. All the fine dust is washed from 
the grasses and leaves, you see.” 

Vanderveer looks at him with a scornful curiosity. 

“ And, by the way, notice what a splendid note those 
orioles make in the morning. It is quite too horrible 
to imagine how quickly one might finish the note. But 
there are even some who shoot the pretty things. Ah ! 
Those pests, the sparrows, have driven the magnificent 
fellow away. It is ever so — the finest are prey to the 
basest. The little robbers! IVe a mind ” 

And then suddenly Vanderveer sees the most mar- 
velous feat he has ever witnessed. Two little English 
sparrows have swooped down upon a branch twenty 
or perhaps even thirty feet from the point where they 
stand, driving away a golden robin that has been sing- 
ing there. In the midst of his careless talk, dreamily 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


35 


looking out, Waters’s hand suddenly goes up, and at 
the same instant, so quickly it seems impossible he 
could have aimed at all, the little revolver cracks. 
The bird farthest away is hurled, with feathers flying, 
to the ground. The other flies. There is a second 
crack of the weapon in John Waters’s hand, and ten 
yards from the branch its flight ends. 

John Waters, still with the dreamy, cold smile in his 
face, turns in the window and looking full at Van- 
derveer, remarks, lightly: 

“ We would better postpone the meeting, Mr. Van- 
derveer. If in ten minutes you should stand up with 
me as you propose, in eleven minutes you would be 
dead.” 

” You are a fiend! ” 

” Reserve your opinions a little. Your chief fault 
is your too hasty impulsiveness. When you practice 
with the pistol, Mr. Vanderveer, try your hand with 
sparrows — on the wing.” 

“ You will not give me satisfaction — that is what 
you mean?” 

” Oh! I merely am advising you against suicide. 
It is too unequal, and you are too young, pardon me, 
and too handsome to die. Useful, too, I daresay, in 
your own way. If you are the betrothed lover of 
Miss Carrington, as common rumor has it, then it oc- 
curs to me that you may be more serviceable to her if 
you undertake to live. It is quite a more sensible thing, 
in my opinion, than making a target for a man who 
snuffs candles with bullets at thirty paces.” 

“ Be sure, if I live, I shall not want for means tc 
save her, you devil ! ” 

” That will be far more profitable, should you sue 
ceed, than calling me names. I shall offer no objec- 
tion to your company on our way to New York, if you 
choose to go. And that reminds me that it is nearly 
time we were stirring. I wonder Mr. Godby has 
not sent for me by this time. But he is merciful, and 
they are probably sleeping.” 

Vanderveer glances at Benonski, who' with alert 
senses has taken in this interview with astonishment 
equal to Vanderveer’s at the feat he has observed. 


36 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Benonski will be allowed to go along with us,” 
says Vanderveer, still plotting for time. 

“ I see no objection.” 

“ Just a moment, Mr. Waters. You struck me last 
night, and to-day you decline my challenge. But I 
am not to be put off so. I have another offer. Be- 
nonski will draw the charge in one weapon, and leave 
the other loaded. He shall then place them under 


“ Restrain your bloodthirsty intentions, Mr. Van- 
derveer. I shall not fire at you ; I shall not stand for 
you to fire at me. I am charged with the duty of tak- 
ing two important prisoners to New York, and noth- 
ing whatever shall turn me from the course of my 
duty. If you respect your word, which you gave me 
last night, you will offer no violent resistance of any 
kind to that procedure. Accompany me if you care 
to. The train leaves in three-quarters of an hour.” 

“ What course will matters take when they reach 
New York? ” 

“ They will be indicted.” 

‘‘And imprisoned to await trial?” 

” Yes.” 

“ That delicate woman ! Think, man — think what 
you do.” 

‘‘ You are prejudiced in her interests, Mr. Vander- 
veer. In the eyes of the law she is charged with mur- 
der. He is charged as an accessory.” 

“ A conspiracy from hell ! Do you credit that atro- 
cious charge? ” 

“I? What have I to do with it? If I disbelieved it, 
that would not influence juries, I imagine.” 

“ But it might cause you to forget that you are an 
officer of justice. It might lead you to remember that 
a woman’s life, an innocent, a noble woman’s life, is 
a greater thing than the bungling and heartless abstrac- 
tion that men misname justice. If you believed her 
innocent, you would not be a party to the infamous 
oppression of adverse circumstances that make her ap- 
pear guilty.” 

“ Why not — if I am a devil? ” 

Vanderveer bites his lip. This sharp, keen-toned 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


37 


man, flinging back at him the reminder of his own 
epithets, is more than his equal in retort. He represses 
his feelings, however, and continues to play his policy 
of delay. He is not hoping to move Waters, but to 
gain time. 

“ I may have spoken too bitterly,’’ he says. “ You 
could easily disprove the aptness of my epithet. If 
these prisoners of yours are innocent — reflect what re- 
sponsibility you ” 

“ W e do not always execute our own responsibili- 
ties. I merely execute the law. You are not so sim- 
ple, I suppose, as to think to turn me from the course 
of my duty by your appeals.” 

“ Why not? It is to be looking out of the car win- 
dow — the scenery you say is so fresh this morning. 
When you look around again, the prisoners have dis- 
appeared.” 

Waters laughs. 

“ Let us go and inform them what a precious fine 
program you have concocted, Mr. Vanderveer,” he 
remarks, half scornfully. “ Your strategy is admir- 
able. When I gaze from the car window — certainly. 
A charming arrangement. It would so finely com- 
mend me at headquarters, where we are specially 
charged with the importance of the case and the neces- 
sity of care in its execution.” 

He strides out of the room, followed by Vanderveer, 
toward the apartment where the prisoners are. 

“ Mr. Godby is a trifle too gentle-hearted, Martin,” 
remarks Waters, as they reach the landing. “ He is 
doubtless permitting the lady to sleep until the last mo- 
ment. But he should not risk making us late.” 

Then he raps upon the chamber door. 

No answer! 

He raps again, and louder. Then, without waiting 
for results, he sets his shoulder against the door, and 
with a powerful push breaks it open with a crash. 

“Godby! Godby!” he cries. 

Then, in evident astonishment, he springs forward. 


38 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

CHAPTER V. 


“ YOU HAVE HUNTED THEM TO THEIR DEATH/’ 

Godby sits fast bound in his chair, in such a position 
that he is evidently unable to move. There is a band- 
age over his mouth. This Waters tears off with a 
savage movement, crying, in a terrible voice: 

“ Where are your prisoners, you wretch? ” 

“ Gone! ” answers Godby, with a groan of despair. 

Turning sharply to Martin, Waters commands: 

“ Search the house! Search outside for their tracks 
and direction! They must not escape! ” 

Then, facing Vanderveer, he adds, fiercely: 

“ This is your work, I fancy.” 

The Russian laughs at this, and Vanderveer re- 
plies : 

“ And perhaps you expect me to assist you in the 
pursuit. On the whole this is better, so far, than the 
car window scheme. Do you not think so? Pity you 
did not get here earlier, now. I fear you were de- 
tained by our little interview. But I was well pleased 
to observe the fine morning effects which you pointed 
out.” 

“Oh! So! You were gaining time, then. I see 
the game! But they will be taken before the day is 
gone. It will be impossible for them to elude our pur- 
suit. You have mud on your shoes, Mr. Vanderveer 
— now 1 happen to observe. That means that you 
were outside last night.” 

“ There is no law against going out in a storm — for 
a good purpose, 1 believe,” replies Vanderveer, coolly. 

“ If I thought it good policy I would put you under 
arrest. As it is, you will be so good as to leave this 
room while I investigate a little. I would like to as- 
certain the circumstances of their escape.” 

As Vanderveer and Benonski withdraw. Waters, 
with an ominous glitter in his eyes, walks over to the 
chair where Godby still sits bound. 

“Well, Godby!” 

The man hangs his head but does not reply. 

“ Tell me what you got for this. It is worth a good 
round price.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


39 


“ What do you mean? ” 

“ It was cash down, I suppose. A thousand dollars 
at least — perhaps five thousand. Carrington is rich. 
I judge you could make your own terms.” 

“ I don’t understand you,” stammers Godby, not in 
the least daring to meet the steely eyes of his superior. 

“ You lie, Godby!” 

Godby cowers visibly. 

“ Why do you not get up, you wretch? ” 

“ They have tied me to the chair, haven’t they? ” 

“ Oh, very well! Sit there a little, then, and let me 
see how well you can lie. Who tied you, Mr. God- 
by?” 

“ Carrington — he and the woman.” 

‘•'Very likely story, indeed! You, of course, re- 
sisted stoutly.” 

“ Not with his revolver in my ear. They would 
have killed me like a rat. I was taken off my guard.” 

” Yes — you would have been killed — if you had not 
been bribed, I see! Cursed traitor! Do you think 
to deceive me? Carrington’s money is in your pocket 
now. Bah! Call that a knot? Here! Slip out that 
hand. Idiot! You are not tied enough to hold a pet 
lamb. And you sit there for hours without giving the 
alarm,” sneers Waters, tearing off the cords from God- 
by, without undoing a knot. 

“ When my reports go in I will endeavor to remem- 
ber this,” he hisses, with a savage glare into Godby’s 
face. “ What time did they leave this room? ” 

About two o’clock.” 

Godby is now shivering with terror. He has not 
sufficiently reckoned upon the terrible wrath of his 
chief. But he plucks up courage enough to say: 

‘‘ I’ll have my own story to tell, too. They had me 
covered with a revolver — that’s the truth. You can’t 
prove any bribery, I say — and there wasn’t any.” 

“ I wili deal with you later, sir. The first thing now 
is to repair the mischief you have caused. We must 
get on the trail and find the game. And it will not be 
so easy. Carrington is no fool, and knows how to 
cover his tracks. Have you any clues? ” 

“ You don’t suppose they unfolded their plans to 

me, do you?” 


40 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Waters makes no answer, but begins casting his 
eyes about the room. Presently upon the center table 
he sees a bunch of scarlet pinks. He places himself 
where Godby, behind him, can see nothing, and then 
he swoops down upon them with his hand. He has 
seen them before — in the parlors, but last night, where 
they rose and fell with her voluptuous breath, as they 
rested on her incomparable breast. He carries the 
withering flowers greedily to his lips, and holds them 
there for a second. Then he thrusts them into the 
folds of his coat. As Godby approaches he begins ex- 
amining some loose paper on the table, saying sharply: 

'‘You will stay here and watch for a short time. 
Our best clue, if they are not found to-day, will be to 
keep an eye on this fine Mr. Vanderveer. He knows 
more than he will tell.” 

“ I hope you will not be too severe on me, Mr. Wa- 
ters. I am prepared to show that I was coerced by 
fear of my life, and ” 

“ No more of that, if you please,” interrupts Wa- 
ters. “ I advise you now to do what you can to 
remedy your infernal treachery.” 

At this moment there are heavy steps upon the stairs 
and Martin, accompanied by a stranger in the garb of a 
boatman or sailor rushes in, gasping: “ I have news.” 

“ Ah! You have found a trace, I hope,” cries Wa- 
ters, joyously. 

As Martin turns to reply, his eye rests upon Vander- 
veer, who has quickly followed. Looking at him 
fixedly, he hesitates a moment, then demands, in a 
trembling voice: 

“ She was to have been your wife, sir — am I right? ” 

“ Tell your news,” commands Waters, catching with 
his fine intuitions the awe in Martin’s voice. 

“ This boatman,” goes on Martin, still in a low tone, 
“ says there is a small yacht ashore. They were escap- 
ing, most probably, in a yacht.” 

“ And they are drowned, you mean? ” puts in God- 
by from behind. 

“ If they were on that yacht — yes.” 

“ My God! ” 

It is Vanderveer, white in the face, who utters 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


4i 

this exclamation, while he stares first at Martin, and 
then at the sailor. 

'‘Wait!’* cries John Waters, in a hard, horrified 
tone. Vanderveer, you know whether they were 
escaping in that yacht. You know, therefore, whether 
the sea has claimed them, and not the law.” 

He stands and glares at Vanderveer. He feels 
against his heart that instant the pressure of the pinks, 
and even fancies that their odor creeps out to his 
senses. 

For the first time in Vanderveer’s sight, this man of 
iron betrays emotion. Is it an expression of agony? 

“ Lead us to the place where the yacht is,” cries 
Harris, and all together, they rush down to the beach. 

The sun has broken out from the bank of mist that 
still clings kissingly to the seaward horizon. The 
deepening surge of the spent tempest is churning and 
crashing, in gigantic and billowing shapes against the 
sand, that hurls back its flying spray in a coast line of 
milky yeast as far as eye can follow either way. And 
these titan surges, in their wild play, have hurled 
upon the sands the broken hull of a white yacht, bat- 
tered and wrecked — a yacht that the evening before 
had lain peacefully in the inlet below the lawn of the 
Graystone house. The wrecked craft, thrown up, al- 
most torn asunder at her beams, has now been for- 
saken by a receding tide. Her broken mast and 
twisted sail still swing from her bows. 

Vanderveer knows her instantly — so does John 
Waters. 

They stop together, by a sudden common impulse, 
and stare in silence at the ruined prey of the sea. 
Then they look with slow horror in each other’s eyes. 

“ It is now useless to conceal anything,” says Wa- 
ters, in a hard, cold voice. “ You and Benonski put 
them on this boat. You trusted them to this de- 
moniac ocean. They have died as a consequence of 
your recklessness.” 

“ Never! They were not to put to sea at all. Of 
course not! It would be madness without excuse, 
to do so in such a sea as this. It was a very devil’s 
tempest. They were but to cross the small bay — a 


42 


double JEO BAROV. 


voyage as safe as heaven. I see it all. They were 
driven out by some accident, lost their bearings in the 
darkness. The tide sets out like a mill race near the 
narrows. Once in it, they could not escape. Ves, 
you devil from hell! And you! you, sir, have hunted 
them to their death! Are you nozv satisfied f 

“ Let us search. I think I see something up the 
beach,” interposes Martin, pointing far up the shore, 
where there is a patch of color in the sunshine, almost 
indistinguishable in the distance. The whole party 
again rush off to discover what it may be, Vander- 
veer, winged with his growing horror, outstripping 
them all. 

A cloak, with a red lining, half buried under the 
drenched sands — this is what they find. 

“ It is Brauna’s. Oh, my God! ” says the despair- 
ing lover. 

He drags it from the sand, and holding it before 
him, looks on it in dumb agony. 

“ You have done this! ” he cries, turning again upon 
Waters. “ Your life and nothing less shall atone for 
it.” 

“ You would find no comfort in killing me, Mr. 
Vanderveer, and I should go to any lengths to avoid 
killing you. Life with me is not so cheap as it seems 
to be with you. You may some time discover that 
you have formed wrong impressions of me and of the 
facts. Right or wrong, nothing would be gained by 
a new tragedy.” 

With this he turns away, leaving Harris Vanderveer, 
now almost helpless in his grief, supported by Be- 
nonski. 


CHAPTER VI. 

“ I AM JEALOUS OF THE SEA.” 

After some weeks have passed, Benonski, with 
faithful care of his master’s interests, secures a tenant 
for Graystone, and arranges with various banks to hold 
their deposits for a year, subject to future action in 


double jeopardy. 


4 .^ 

probate, and the remainder of Carrington’s business 
relations he adjusts as they develop with painstaking 
care and excellent judgment. 

“ It may not be — it may not be,” over and over 
again he says to himself and to Vanderveer. ” They 
may not have perished, notwithstanding the wrecked 
yacht.” 

But the mourning lover only shakes his head. 

” They were in it. They went to the bottom of the 
sea,” he says. ” Oh, that awful night! ” 

For days — weeks even, he haunts the shore, and 
watches for- the sea to fling his treasure at his feet. 
He inspects every account of the wrecks of that night, 
and of bodies of the dead cast up by the sea — all in 
vain. They came no more to his vision, and the 
ocean, calmed to a glassy surface in the sunlight and 
moonlight, keeps its dread secret, while it splashes on 
him its playful spray, moaning all night in his ears a 
requiem for his dead. 

The story of the arrest never circulated among his 
friends, nor among the little circle where Brauna had 
moved. When New York heard that she and her 
father had been swept to sea while attempting to cross 
the little bay, and doubtless wrecked and drowned in 
the gale, there was for a few weeks a decent conster- 
nation in the world of society where she had moved, 
and some sincere and mournful sympathy for Vander- 
veer. Human nature is at its best in its comfort for 
the sorrowing, and Harris Vanderveer was a favorite. 

About three months after this, Count St. Mart Golfi, 
a Russian refugee of famous skill and daring, and a re- 
markable history, sits alone in a secret chamber in the 
rear of a house in Jane Street. 

This building is now the actual center of the Mos- 
cow League in New York. It has a secret entrance, 
made with much quiet labor, from an adjoining house 
in Horatio Street; likewise one or two panel chambers 
and a padded room deep down in the sub-cellar. Con- 
cealed under the floor of one of its apartments is 
enough melinite to shatter a goodly portion of the 
neighborhood. One of its principal rooms is pro- 


44 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


vided vith a trapped floor that might suddenly open 
under the feet and project the doomed one to God 
knows whither; no one has ever returned to tell. 

The nefarious nature of this house of quiet exterior 
in this half-forgotten portion of New York is ab- 
solutely unsuspected by the police. If it were sus- 
pected, Golfi’s influence is probably near enough to the 
corrupt political centers of city authority to enable 
him to guard his headquarters against inspection, not 
to say invasion, by any who might seek to unearth its 
secrets. 

St. Mart Golfi sits alone in an upper room of this 
house examining a book of reports. As he reads, his 
face is contracted into a deep frown. The frowning 
face is one expressing great power. The brows are 
black and shaggy, beetling over the eyes, that glitter 
like beads of jet beneath them, and his heavy jaws 
are like those of a sullen bulldog. He is heavily, even 
massively built, yet he is the lithest and quickest man 
that ever leaped over the iron guard around the prison 
at Petrofski. 

This man it is who in New York controls the Mos- 
cow League, the most daring and influential organ- 
ization of Nihilists in or out of Russia. Their plots 
reach to the palace of the Czar, and when he fell at last 
in death, his blood stained the Moscow League. The 
Moscow League struck government in the face, and 
also in the back. They smote in front in St. Peters- 
burg, and behind in Siberia. They are masters in the 
use of the dagger, the poison, and the explosive. Life 
to them is cheap, especially their own. If it is dear 
at all, it is dear because they want to accomplish revo- 
lution in Russia. If they can not do this, they will 
strike the tyrants who maintain Siberia for their tor- 
ture, and suppress the. soul of man in the interests of 
the hated class. They believe that if they fail, their 
children after them will succeed. And if hope is gone, 
revenge still remains. 

For the safety of their plans, and to furnish a refuge 
to the Nihilists who might escape from Siberia, they 
have planted their seat in America. Golfi the terrible, 
who has suffered under the knout of a Siberian gov- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


45 


ernor, that punishment that so often ends in death, has 
recovered and lives. He has left blood in his track. 
The governor himself by whose order he was scomrged 
was found in the prison yard by the horrified guard 
minus his eyes, minus his tongue, all his fingers gone, 
evidently torn off, groaning and dying. The night 
guard have been slain with- their own bullets. Golfi 
and twenty others, with food for ten days, lost them- 
selves in the winter, in the Siberian mountains, strik- 
ing for the region of Bering Straits. Every man but 
Golfi succumbed under the horrors of Siberian frosts. 
Golfi the superhuman, Golfi the unconquerable, forag- 
ing on the wretched hut dwellers, burrowing in snow 
drifts, without food for days, intrepid, tireless, dread- 
ful in misfortune, reached the ocean, stole a boat, im- 
pressed a terrified Kamchatkan into his service, braved 
the wave and the ice, and reached the American shore. 

When he had suffered enough, God gave him a 
quick and easy passage on a whale ship to San Fran- 
cisco, and thence overland to New York. Here he 
finds other refugees, and to him they all turn for 
leadership. 

And being here, this man has one great consuming 
purpose of a personal nature, and another patriotic 
purpose. The purpose of Golfi, the patriot, is the 
death of the tyrant in St. Petersburg. But the vehe- 
ment intent of Golfi, the Siberian sufferer, is nearer 
and more deadly. He believes that the earth is still 
vexed with the footsteps of the man who betrayed 
into the hands of the Czar one day himself and a hun- 
dred others to be sent to the prison and the knout. 
While this traitor lives Golfi will never sleep easily in 
his bed, will never cease to scowl and search and plot. 
It is but a short time since he has heard that this 
traitor, attempting to escape, has perished in the sea. 

Count St. Mart lifts his eyes from the reports. There 
is a glint of morning sunshine smiting the window 
pane behind him, falling on his face — a majestic and 
terrible face, with its scars and scowls, lighted thus 
with the morning sun. 

He touches a bell and waits. A minute later his 
alert ear catches the sound of soft footsteps, and al- 


46 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


most noiselessly a man enters the apartment — a thin, 
yellow individual, in a long black coat. 

“ Sit down, baron,” says Golfi, in a voice surpris- 
ingly mellow and musical. 

The visitor sits on the extreme edge of the chair. 

Do not fear the chair, baron,” he laughs. “ It 
has no devils in its bowels.” 

The baron, in a somewhat sickly fashion, tries to 
laugh also. 

“ I wish to refresh my memory — to use yours a lit- 
tle, my friend,” begins Golfi. “ You remember the 
attempt to kidnap PordanofI? ” 

“ The CzaPs spy? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ He escaped.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Tell me who was in charge? ” 

“ Gunst. He was punished. I assisted in his pun- 
ishment.” 

“ Who was over him? ” 

“ Waters — Number 66.” 

“ I thought so. He made the charge against Gunst, 
I think?” 

“Yes. He is never ” 

“ Reserve your comments. Tell me who was se- 
lected to do Modjeska, the Polish traitor, who is now in 
the Czar’s army? ” 

“ Nolitas — Number i8.” 

“Who was it set the trap?” 

“ Waters and his squad.” 

“Why did they fail?” 

“ The men went to the wrong place. Waters re- 
ported, and they confessed the mistake.” 

“ There are twenty-three cases reported here, all 
under Waters’s charge. Of these, nineteen meant 
death. In eighteen of them the marked man escaped 
us.” 

“ Incredible.” 

“ I go by the record. It is true — like most incredi- 
ble things. These records cover over two hundred 
cases. We have struck with no uncertain hand. Out- 
side the cases given to Waters, there are but three es- 
capes.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


47 


“ And he the ablest man in the League. He is not 
at fault, you may be sure.” 

Count St. Mart Golfi smiles. 

“ In every instance I find the guilt was clearly 
traced to his men, or to some of them.” 

“ Ah, I believed it to be so. You should give him 
the most trustworthy men. He is certain to retrieve 
that record. His reputation is that of a man of iron.” 

“ If he is playing me false, I shall show you how steel 
can grind iron to powder. His last case is the worst.” 

“ But they are dead.” 

“ It is not enough. I am jealous of the sea. I 
wished to see that traitor in the torture room. I do 
not forget five years in Siberia easily.” 

“ Godby is not a Russian. You should send only 
Russians in cases as important as that.” 

“ Yes; you are right. Godby is not in the inner 
circle, but he may be true to the cause. I find that he 
was covered with a weapon, and would only have 
risked his own life had he resisted. The fault lies 
higher. It looks not a little strange that but one man 
was set on guard over a man like Alvaroff. Bah! 
Godby is a toad. Why did Waters put him in there 
alone? True, Waters could not know that Alvaroff 
was the ablest plotter in Moscow, and a man to be 
guarded with sleepless vigilance. I ought to. have 
posted him. Twice this traitor has escaped. He is 
dead — and I am sorry. Ah! Had I but been able to 

put my hands to his throat but once before he 

Bah! Merely to drown! It angers me.” 

Golfi stamps his foot on the floor, and shows his 
large white teeth like the snarling fangs of a beast of 
prey. 

“ These reports,” he continues, “ have aroused a 
suspicion. Tell me again the story of the arrest.” 

“A suspicion?” 

“ Yes. That they may yet be alive.” 

“ That is impossible, count. At your orders the en- 
tire affair was investigated by me. They were in the *' 
yacht. The yacht was upset and swept ashore. Her 
cloak was found on the beach. They are dead.” 

‘‘ And my vengeance on that viper will never be 
wrought.” 


48 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Yet we who suffer have other work to do. St. 
Petersburg exists — palace and throne. We have not 
been left without a mission.” 

At this instant an electric bell near at hand be- 
gins ringing. Golfi hears it through. There are long 
thrills and short ones, with long and short pauses 
also. 

“ There is a messenger waiting — important,” says 
Golfi, then commands, “ Remain in the next room. I 
may desire to see you farther.” 

The baron has hardly disappeared when through 
another entrance noiselessly comes in a being one 
might call a human cat. In every look and movement 
he is catlike. His eyes are those of the feline, his teeth 
like a tiger’s, his tread like the measured pace of the 
beast advancing on its prey. On his face is a wide 
star-shaped scar, that might either have been thought a 
birthmark or a saber cut. Of thick set and powerful 
build, with long arms and wide, brawny hands, he 
seems more animal than human. 

As he enters the count rises up and looks at him 
without speaking. 

“ You are Count St. Mart Golfi, formerly of Mos- 
cow,” says the stranger, bowing and removing his cap. 

Golfi, silent and watchful, bows in return his assent. 

“ If you will permit me to be seated — I have an im- 
portant matter to communicate.” 

“ Sit there, if you please.” 

The count designates a large armchair near the 
table. He knows that the entrance of this man means 
that he has passed a good examination at various en- 
trance ways, and has been able to satisfy the guards 
that he is a good Nihilist. Taking the chair without 
suspicion, the visitor remarks, abruptly : 

“ I am a companion in misfortune — and in liberty. 
I, too, am from Moscow. I am able to identify myself 
to all good Nihilists.” 

He thereupon makes a signal with his hands. 

“ A friend and brother,” says Golfi. “ How can 
I serve you?” 

I wish to ascertain why you and our brotherhood 
marked Alvaroff for death.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


49 


“ What have you to do with Alvaroff ? ” asks Golfi. 
eyeing him closely. 

“ Much, Count Golfi. * In fact, his death He 

was drowned, was he not? ” 

He and his daughter.” 

“ They were arrested? ” 

‘‘ Yes.” 

“ By your orders? ” 

“ Through my influence.” 

“ You hunted them down? You had a reason for 
bringing them to account.” 

“ He was arrested for being concerned in a murder 
— perhaps you know that also. It was a public mat- 
ter, more or less.” 

“ I know something of that. But the League does 
not concern itself with the apprehending of criminals 
who are merely charged with private and personal 
crimes. Why did we follow Alvaroff? ” 

” I have no objection to telling, especially as the 
case is ended. Alvaroff was the traitor who betrayed 
the conspiracy of 1874. That year a hundred patriots 
went to Siberia — I among them. Twenty were 
knouted. I alone of the number survived that punish- 
ment. Perhaps you know all this?” 

” Count St. Mart Golfi’s history is written on the 
heart of every brother of the Moscow League. But it 
is difficult lo believe all that you say. Pardon me — 
Alvaroff was accused — but the proofs were defective.” 

” Why defend him? He and Merki fled one day be- 
fore the arrests at the Bouski Plaza, where of all the 
patriots assembled not ten escaped. Waters, the 
American, was one. He shot the guards of the Czar 
in their tracks, I am told. Alvaroff and Merki were 
proved to have received a high officer of the court at 
Alvaroff’s house. That house was surrounded by 
guards for two days before the affair at the Bouski 
Plaza. How did they escape, except by the conniv- 
ance of the Czar’s officers? It was the price of their 
betrayal. Alvaroff and his daughter gathered up and 
took with them about all of his great wealth. What 
more by way of proof is needed? ” 

“ Nevertheless Merki, whatever is proved of Alvar- 


50 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


off, was not a traitor. He also was at the Bouslci Plaza'.. 
He stood beside Waters, and cut his way through.. 
Why accuse Merki?” 

“ It was a slip of memory. I withdraw that. It is^ 
true that Merki was at the Bouski Plaza, at least, that 
accords with my information. I made the charge be- 
cause he was the intimate of Alvaroff’s beautiful daugh-- 
ter, by whom he was at length .stilettoed in this city.. 
No; Merki was probably unaware, though infatuatedi 
by the girl, of Alvaroff’s intended treachery. Other- 
wise, it is difficult to understand why he did not es-- 
cape with them.” 

“ I am relieved to hear you exonerate Merki.” 

“ You knew him? ” 

“ Very well.” 

“ You knew then, perhaps, about his murder by 
Alvaroff’s daughter? ” 

“ No; he was not murdered by Alvaroff’s daughter.” 

“ In this city, seven years ago, in a house since 
burned down, she stabbed him three times with her sti- 
letto — stabbed him to death.” 

“ Not so. He did not die.” 

“ The proofs are on the coroner’s records.” 

“ Nevertheless, Ferrand Merki still lives.” 

“ You are in error. Let us dismiss the topic. Your 
delusion is unpleasant.” 

” I will then prove to you that it is no delusion. I 
ought to know. Count Golfi. I mvself am Ferrand 
Merki.” 


CHAPTER VH. 

'‘are you satisfied, count golfi?” 

St. Mart fixes his piercing eyes on the catlike face 
.of his visitor, who has just made this startling an- 
nouncement, and says, in a deep, threatening tone : 

“Then, Ferrand Merki, you have not a minute to 
live. You shall die the sudden, dreadful death of a 
traitor ! ” 

If the count has expected his visitor to quail and 
cower at this threat, he is disappointed. Only a sly 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


51 


hand creeps inside his cloak, until Golfi says, sharply: 

“ Weapons will not avail you. Observe my hand, 
resting on this paper weight. If I press it, a dozen 
blades, each with force enough to penetrate your heart, 
and poison enough to kill as many men, will impale 
you before you can move.” 

Wait a moment,” says the cat, his face shading to 
the gray of ashes, but still boldly meeting the count’s 
terrible eyes. ” Wait! I have information too valuable 
to make it profitable to you to press the paper weight. 
Besides, if you did, your knives would not so much as 
prick my skin. They would stop short of the barrier 
made for me by Wasti, the finest craftsman in the 
world — Wasti, of Moscow. You know what that 
means.” 

” Oh! You have on one of Wasti’s steel shirts — 
yes, I know very well. It is made of links as fine as 
hair, and wears as flexibly as wool. But that avails 
nothing. Note the scarlet cord here at my touch. If 
I but pull it enough to lift the weight of a pin, you will 
lie the next instant, crushed under four tons of iron, 
dropped from a distance of twelve feet above your head. 
I will not dally. I am about to pull the cord, and end 
the career of a traitor.” 

” I am no traitor. Count Golfi. I am a patriot.” 

“ You shall live long enough to fail in an at- 
tempt to prove it. But if you move, or lift a hand, 
it shall be the signal for your instant destruction. Why 
were the officers at Alvaroff’s house?” 

“ If they were there, as you affirm, and as I am un- 
able to disprove, then Alvaroft was a traitor.” 

“ You loved Alvaroff’s beautiful daughter? ” 

“ All men love her. If I did, no one need condemn 
that. At all events, I wished to marry Alvaroff’s 
daughter.” 

“ There was a marriage. You were in his confi- 
dence. You were traitors together.” 

“ Before I feel four tons of death on my head,” says 
the cat, now cool and watchful, glancing upward at the 
square frescoes in the ceiling over his chair, “ permit 
me to tell my story. Alvaroff, as you know, was im- 
mensely rich, I was wretchedly poor. Nihilists should 


52 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


have learned not to trust a rich man. Ever are they 
on the side of government. Their interests are always 
with the established order. Alvaroff was rich and I 
poor. Brauna, his daughter, was the most beautiful 
girl in Moscow — in Russia. She fell passionately in 
love with me.’’ 

“ There is no accounting for tastes,” says Golfi; 
grimly. 

” She loved me, let that suffice. I was dazzled by 
the hope of a great fortune as well as by her great 
beauty. I married her.” 

“ With Alvaroff ’s consent? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then you were his ally in treachery.” 

” Not so. Together we lied to Alvaroff. He was 
made to believe that his daughter’s fair name was men- 
aced, and he formed a devil’s plot to be rid of me. He 
fled the very evening after the marriage in the morn- 
ing, taking his daughter with him, and the next day oc- 
curred the affair at the Bouski Plaza.” 

” Your romance is pleasing. It gives me insight 
into your intentions. I can now guess why you pro- 
pose to personate Ferrand Merki.” 

” I am Ferrand Merki.” 

” I compliment you. It is well done — but the evi- 
dence defeats you. You are fortunate, because as you 
are merely a fraud, I shall be content to postpone or 
even forego the pulling of this little cord while you sit 
under the death weight. Ferrand Merki is long ago 
dead. But if you should lay claim to the vast fortune of 
Alvaroff, as the husband of his daughter, with a goodly 
array of fraudulent proofs — well, there seems to be 
nobody left to resist you. It will be a fine speculation.” 

” That indeed would be a powerful motive to an 
impostor, Count Golfi. But the claim would be in- 
vincible if I am Ferrand Merki himself.” 

“That is easily tested Show yourself to your old 
associates. I never knew you in Moscow. Waters 
did. Shall I send for Waters? ” 

“ In due time. Where is Baron de Lani? He will 
tell you if .1 lie.” 

Count Golfi touches a bell, and then calls out in a 
loud tone, to the astonishment of the cat: 


DOUBLE jeopardy. 


53 


“ Baron de Lani! This way, please.” 

The man in the long coat and sallow face, who had 
been with the count at the moment of the arrival of 
the cat, now reappears from an inner room. As- 
tounded at this unexpectedly prompt response to his 
challenge the man who has called himself Ferrand 
Merki stands up to meet the issue he has invited. 
Following Golfi’s look, he turns sharply about and 
faces the man coming in, and in a firm, harsh, defiant 
tone, says, audaciously: 

Good morning, Baron de Lani; greeting from an 
old acquaintance.” 

De Lani looks, then stares, then gasps, then puts up 
his hand with an expression of vast horror in his eyes, 
and retreats along the wall with a face turning as 
white as the frescoes against which it is set. 

“ Merki! ” he gasps at last. “ The phantom — of — 
Ferrand Merki! ” 

“ Is this man Ferrand Merki — supposed to have 
been murdered by Alvaroff’s daughter years ago? 
Speak, De Lani.” 

Golfi, standing up, looks from one to the other in 
growing astonishment. 

“ It is Merki,” says the baron, his teeth chattering. 
“ It is he — or his double — or his ghost. No — impos- 
sible! I saw him at the coroner’s, dead. It is impos- 
sible!” 

“Are you satisfied, Count Golfi?” says the cat, 
with a little laugh. 

“ No. De Lani, this man professes to be Ferrand 
Merki. You have detected a resemblance, that is all. 
Tell me, on second thought, is this the man? ” 

“ He has the scar, count. He has the eyes. He 
has the yellow teeth — the long arms. My God! He 
is risen from the dead, then.” 

“ Let us consider it,” says the count, sitting down 
again. “ Let us for the moment assume it, since the 
baron seems to have recognized you. Tell me, then, 
how you come to be here alive. Tell me who was 
killed in the house in Waverley Place.” 

He motions Merki to a seat also, and waits for his 
explanation. 


54 


DOUBLE JEOEARDY4 


“ A she-devil indeed stabbed me with her stiletto 
three times in the back. I was dead. I am still le- 
gally dead. Pest! You shall see the scars that she 
made.” 

He flings off his coat, and with a few movements, 
bares to the count’s view a portion of the skin sur- 
face of his back. The count and De Lani come near 
and inspect the skin. Three heavy scars, small, but 
well defined, are visible there. 

“ The scars are there. You are doing well with the 
proofs. Go on,” says Golfi. 

The cat resumes his attire, covering the scars again 
with a cunning smile of triumph on his face. 

“ The infallible physicians even do not know how 
much life there is in a man,” he resumes. “ The coro- 
ner declared me dead. Ostensibly, I was buried. As 
a matter of fact, the ghastly body took the common 
course. It is the ordinary practice to bury dummies 
from the public morgue. They are only buried when 
they can not be sold — the real body, I mean. It was 
so with the body of the murdered man, Ferrand Merki. 
It was sold to some medical students. Before they 
came to take it away it returned to life. I found my- 
self lying in the coroner’s room. 

“ I knew, with returning consciousness, where I 
was and what must have happened after I felt her 
daggers in my back. It was night. I, who have suf- 
fered too. Count Golfi, have a strong will. I found in 
the coroner’s room brandy and food. My wounds 
were dangerous. Nevertheless, I crawled out of that 
place, leaving the door unlocked behind me, carrying 
with me a bottle of brandy and a roll of bread. I 
remained three days in the stable, hidden in the straw. 
I had little fever, notwithstanding my wounds. I man- 
aged to steal some garments to cover my naked body. 
Thus, carefully, I escaped. I was sick for a year. I 
still suffer from the wounds. Whenever the wind is 
to the east and the air is raw, I am forced by mv 
pain to remember the stiletto of Brauna Alvaroff and 
the treachery of her father.” 

“ Where have you been since recovering? ” 

“ In Russia.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


55 


“Why did you leave New York?” 

“ Alvaroff and his daughter — my wife, disappeared. 
The police lost the clue. They might be in Russia. 
I also had word that my good father had returned 
on a pardon from Siberia. I went to him that I might 
cheer his declining days.” 

“ De Lani, what do you say of this story? ” asks 
Golfi, turning to the baron. 

“ It is true. This can be none other than Ferrand 
Merki, whom we all believed to be dead. It is mar- 
velous.” 

“ If you are able to prove this story, then you may 
claim Alvaroff’s fortune.” 

“ Not so, count. I intend to seize a far better 
thing.” 

“ Better? ” 

“ Yes, I shall seize the heir of Alvaroff.” 

“ He had but one heir — heiress, rather. She is 
dead.” 

The cat looks slowly from the count to the baron, 
and then from the baron to the count. ‘‘ Alvaroff and 
his daughter are neither of them dead. They both 
live.” 

Golfi and De Lani only stare at this strange man, 
startled at his astonishing announcement. The count 
speaks first: 

“ Now may all good devils prove you true. Then I 
may yet put my hands upon a traitor's throat and 
sponge out the horrors of Siberia. Tell me what you 
know.” 

He takes a menacing step nearer to Merki, as if he 
-would seize him and wrest his secrets from him by 
force. 

“ Have patience, Count Golfi. Did not I before say 
to you that my information is too valuable to be 
buried under your infernal death traps? I shall ac- 
count it an honor to serve the great Count St. Mart 
Golfi as an ally and a friend, especially as I too am 
bound by the blood oath of our suffering brother- 
hood.” 

“ Proceed, then,” commands St. Mart, a little im- 
patiently. “ And be careful that my oath does not re- 
quire me to destroy you as a traitor.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


56 

If I were a traitor, think you I would come to this 
place with my information? Am I that simple, think 
you? ” 

The cat pauses, a glitter in his eyes, watching nar- 
rowly the jaws of the bulldog, for it is now a match 
between these two not very unequal in cunning, skill, 
and power. Golfi, astonished at what Merki has re- 
vealed, yet only half believing him, is thinking rap- 
idly how he may perhaps pierce the possible lie that has 
been sprung upon him. At the same time he is con- 
sidering whether Merki may not be actually telling the 
truth. If so, then Golfi desires to penetrate his mo- 
tives and uncover his intentions. On his part, Merki 
is armed so well with startling information that he be- 
lieves himself to be for the present master of the sit- 
uation. 

You are the husband of Alvaroff’s daughter. If 
they live, as you have asserted, you then are his ally — 
and hers. AlvarofI is dead. He and his daughter 
lie forever under the billows of the sea. Ferrand 
Merki you may be — in spite of the baron’s identifica- 
tion, and the scars, and all, I am skeptical about that 
but Alvarofif is dead. Tell me your motive for your 
falsehood about Alvaroff? ” 

Alvarofi lives, his daughter lives. I know it. I 
discovered it entirely by a lucky accident. Had I 
not, I never should have come here to-day. How they 
managed to escape and elude you all I know as little 
as you. But in less than a day I can take you to the 
place where at this moment they are hiding.” 

Golfi reflects an instant. The manner of this man 
impresses him. It is indeed the cunning manner of a 
plotter, yet to Golfi it says that Merki is telling the 
truth. He looks at him again as if he would read the 
most hidden secrets of his heart. 

“ You are telling the truth,” he says, in a tone of 
mingled exultation and warning. “ You would not 
dare tell me that if it were not true. Now I wish to 
know why you come here to tell it to me, and what 
you wish to propose. Are you not the lawful husband 
of Alvaroff’s daughter? ” 

Ask Baron de Lani to retire. To you, and to you 
alone, will I reveal my motive.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


57 


“ The baron will remain in the inner room,” says 
Golfi, waving his hand to De Lani with an imperious 
gesture. ” And, baron, you will make known to no 
one what has passed between us in your presence. 
Listen for the bell.” 

De Lani bows himself out. 

” And now,” begins Golfi, “ be careful what you say 
— ghost of Ferrand Merki. Say it clearly, and be sure 
1 shall note and remember. Why have you come here 
to tell me that the traitor lives? ” 

“ Pest! Why should I lie to you, think you? Es- 
pecially, why should I come here and thrust my head 
into the jaws of devils, in order to lie? Why do I 
not ally myself with Alvaroff ? ” 

“ It is that question I am waiting for you to an- 
swer.” 

” It answers itself. Did not Alvaroff hate me? Pest! 
She stabbed me until she believed I was dead. Her 
father had convinced her that it was I and not him- 
self that led the Czar’s officers to the Bouski Plaza. 
I have three scars in my back where this tigress struck 
me with her claws. Very well. Think you I love her 
for that? The dagger devil! Bah! I hate them 
both! But I have my plans. Count Golfi, I have my 
plans. Stupid! Shall I go to them and say: ‘I am 
alive? ’ Wliat will be the result? She can no longer 
be hunted for my murder. She is free. Then her 
hatred will boil over. Alvaroff will come here and 
try to show you, and succeed if he can, that I, and not 
he, am the traitor. They will have the marriage an- 
nulled. That done, and I shall never see a ruble of 
Alvaroff’s fortune! That is plain, is it not? ” 

Golfi, silent, alert, and with eyes fixed on the 
speaker, makes no answer, but signs him to proceed. 
Merki accordingly continues: 

“ But I come to you. You also hate Alvaroff. You 
believe iiim to be the cause of your sufferings — of Si- 
beria and the knout. I know not. If he were that 
traitor, you know best. If he were that traitor, then 
should he not die? When they are both dead, I, 
and I alone, can seize the fortune of Alvaroff. As I 
am the husband of his daughter, and can prove it, I 


58 DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

am the sole heir. Therefore, I wish them both to die. 
Had I been here when they were arrested they would 
not have escaped me.” 

Merki wipes his face with a handkerchief, and then 
sits down — not in the same chair, however. 

“ So far the case is clear,” says Golfi. “ Have you 
told it all?” 

” No. I have the coroner who sat at the inquest, 
and he will do what I bid him. If Brauna should be 
put on trial he will not be seen. His records will 
show the death. There are also the interment records. 
But when I come, as I shall, to claim the fortune of 
Alvaroff, the coroner will testify that the body disap- 
peared. The medical students who were to have taken 
it away at midnight and did not find it are also in this 
city, and they will be on hand at that time to add their 
testimony. 1 shall be able to trace my own trail in- 
disputably for every hour since I entered the St. Mary 
Hospital with the wounds in my back.” 

“ I see the game clearly. You wish to remain con- 
cealed. You declare that Alvaroff and his daughter, 
who is also your legal wife, are alive. You wish them 
dead. Good! If you tell the truth, Ferrand Merki- 
risen-from-the-dead, then what you wish and what I 
wish are the same. Where is Alvaroff? ” 

” On the eastern end of Long Island.” 

“ Who protects them? How did they escape? 
There is something underneath all that, important for 
me to know. I allow myself all the chance of being 
deceived, but our interests are the same, and I for- 
give even a plausible fraud, and all things else, if you 
but show me Alvaroff and his daughter alive. What 
are your plans? ” 

“ The woman is sick. She may even die. There 
was, I think, some dreadful exposure during their es- 
cape. If she recovers, the law will take its course. It 
is for you. Count Golfi, in secret, and in the use of all 
the power of our brotherhood, to stand behind the 
law, and push on its terrors. Let her suffer the 
shame of the courts, of jails — even of execution.” 

“Bah! That is foolish. No jury in New York 
would convict. No judge would give a death sen- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


^9 


tence, if they did. Money and sentiment would save 
her. If she dies it will be of shame and fear. I saw 
her once, before the arrest. She is inordinately beau- 
tiful; she is also refined and sensitive.” 

“ True — and all the better for us, who mean to kill 
her. And all the more will I be able to punish her.” 

“ True. You, Merki, have suffered — so have I, but 
we can not bring her to a legal death in New York. 
But through her shame, the traitor can be tortured. 
It is better than to strike him. By all means drag her 
into the courts. We can be there, and no soul know 
that we are the power behind. Let his heart wring 
out its traitor’s blood drop by drop. If she, at last, 
survives, it will be as a prisoner of the State, without 
hope and without a future. Then if you seek her for- 
tune, it is for you to see to it.” 

“She shall die. Pest! My dagger wounds will 
sting in my back until the she-devil is out of the world. 
Besides — the money. Count Golfi, the money! ” 

“ We will let them both go to the mercy of the law 
first. If they survive it, then I will find a very good 
way to bring that traitor to his doom. He shall listen 
to my story of Siberia, and then he shall know what its 
tortures are, know by the agony of his own. My God! 
Let me remember the knout, the frosts, the starvation 
in the Kamtchatkan deserts! To him, to him, I owe 
it all.” 

Golfi, remembering his sufferings, rises from his 
chair with a contortion of rage in his face. 

“ The first thing is to seize them,” says Merki, with 
a glitter in his eyes. 

“ Show me their hiding place. They shall not es- 
cape me again,” replies Count St. Mart. Then, renew- 
ing his study for a moment of the face of the visitor, he 
continues, in an uneasy way: “ If you should betray 
me, Ferrand Merki, you yourself shall go to the tor- 
ture chamber.” 

“ It will be a long day first. I was never made 
for the thumbscrew's.” 

“Who can tell? I was educated to be a priest of 
the Greek Church. You see how the intentions of 
men fare. You may even yet come to the thumb- 
screws.” 


6o 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ I am not desirous to anticipate it. Are we to be 
allies?” 

Yes. For the present we must work together.” 

“ For the destruction of our enemies.” 

“ Yes. To repay the knout.” 

“Ah! And to seize a million dollars.” 

“ To punish a traitor.” 

“ Precisely; and to requite for three dagger thrusts 
in my back.” 

The men clasp hands. Two fools are they, living 
for the basest of ends — revenge and greed. 

But the compact of vengeance is closed and sealed. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ I WILL MARRY HIM.” 

Harris Vanderveer, rich, handsome, educated, can 
not be spared from his fine coterie of friends and ad- 
mirers, to nurse his grief for a woman who has been 
so unfortunate as to be drowned. His melancholy is 
interesting. It adds to the romantic charm of his per- 
sonality. And a man of his temperament is very 
readily susceptible to the flattery of a delicate sym- 
pathy. For this reason he finds solace and delight in 
the companionship of Blanche Evanston. With subtle 
art she talks with him, at first chiefly of the trag- 
edy and of its victims. This keeps him by her side, 
and in her atmosphere there is the inexplicable charm 
of an intoxicating sensuousness to which a man like 
Vanderveer is easily inclined to yield. 

Blanche is a society phenomenon. No one can tell 
her history. No one seems to know, if there should 
be inquiry, how she came into her position. She keeps 
sumptuous apartments, with some elderly female who 
passes as her aunt; is a charming hostess, and always 
an entertaining and attractive guest. If some 
mammas shrug their shoulders in private they can not 
afford to snub in public such a popular doll-faced 
beauty, so frank and childlike and artless, but also evi- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


6i 


dently rich and elegant and composed and witty and 
agreeable enough to get herself liked by all the desir- 
able men in the circle in which she moves. 

Vanderveer does not care to resist in the least her 
delicious siege of his heart, of which he is not definitely 
aware, of course, but which she pursues as persistently 
and insidiously as good form and fine art will permit. 
He hardly could have known that in two months she 
would become nearly indispensable to him. Brauna 
was gone forever; why should he not feel the comfort 
which the presence of this rare creature gives him, 
and so he drifts along, utterly unconscious of the secret 
motives that make this fair, sensuous plotter burn to 
hasten his slow descent to the pitfall that she is laying 
for him. • 

There are possible volcanoes under her feet that 
may break out into view and ruin her hopes at any 
juncture. For Blanche knew within two weeks from 
the day when the yacht was washed ashore that her 
rival lived. Inside of the letter that startled and 
shocked her with this untimely news, was another ad- 
dressed to Vanderveer. Alas! Brauna also trusted 
her, never seeing below the surface of the smiling face 
where is hidden her history and her character. They 
have been friends, and Blanche has even professed to 
confide to Brauna her own life story, well invented and 
charmingly told. Brauna believes her to be an honest 
and artless creature. For the safety of herself and her 
father, she may not write to Vanderveer directly. 
They suppose that search is being made, and that noth- 
ing must be done to risk the betrayal of their where- 
abouts. So the letter is inclosed through her closest 
friend — her most deadly enemy. 

Blanche reads it to herself, her own letter from 
Brauna, with a startled panting of her breath, locked in 
her chamber where no eye can see and no ear hear: 

“ Dear Blanche: He has told you all, I suppose, 
before this. I promised to write through you, because 
letters to him are not quite safe. I am not quite able 
to pen this for the fever that has seized me. We shall 
remain hidden where we are until it is safe to sail away 


62 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


to some other corner of the world. When we are well 
beyond the reach of our foes, I will bid him come to 
me. I inclose a word for him, but I do not say any- 
thing aboiu our dreadful exposure during the flight. 
He can not safely come to me, and it would only pain 
him to know that I am sick ” 

There was more — words of confidence and sad hope 
for better and safer fortune. That her rival was in peril 
of her life, fleeing from arrest, and accused of crime, she 
has learned from Godby. But she, with them all, has 
believed that the beautiful fugitive perished in the sea. 
Now comes this letter to shatter her dreams of Van- 
derveer, which already she has begun to weave. It 
means that there lives still in the world the one woman 
whom Yanderveer loves. He will go to her, whom he 
has believed to be lost. He will never look again upon 
Blanche. He will break the spell with which she is 
even now beginning to envelop him without a regret, 
and fly to the arms of her rival. Blanche knows this. 
But there is a little grim — almost devilish — glitter in 
her eyes, her dovelike and artless blue eyes — making 
them as the cold and viperous eyes of a snake. 

She slowly crushes the letter in her hand and sits 
down to think. For a half hour she sits, as motionless 
as stone, her face drawn and hard, staring into va- 
cancy. Then she takes the letter inclosed for Vander- 
veer and holds it up against the light. 

“Bah! What is conscience? A fiction — a plague 
— a devil! Why should it hinder me? I thought I 
had parted with that years ago. Did I not leave- it in 
Paris? Francois swore once that it had been omitted, 
fortunately, from my sum of faculties. And I came 
near proving him a liar. I wonder if this feeling in me 
about that adorable man has anything to do with it? 
But it is gone. It was a mere folly of the passing in- 
stant. I haven’t really a conscience. Fran(;ois is 
quite right. Now let me prove it.” 

Then she deliberately tears open Vanderveer’s letter. 

As she reads, it torments her like the stings of a 
whip, till she cries aloud; 

“ I hate the deyil — sajnt.! I hate her! ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


63 


Then gets up and stands before her great mirror. 

“ Bah! It is childish. I will be sweet as honeyed 
oil. I will not be a weak fool, to scowl and be miser- 
able. I will be happy. Hate? Certainly not. It 
makes wrinkles, and I haven’t one on my face. I 
don’t mean to have. Hate? Why should I? Have 
I not everything in my hands? Let her do the hat- 
ing, while I play the game. It is my feeling for him. 
I must not let it make a conscience for me. It will be 
too uncomfortable — and I never had one to trouble 
me yet. Let me be an angel of light, and play the 
game. She is dead. Of course she is dead. Never 
have I received a letter from her. How can one re- 
ceive letters from a dead woman? That is all I shall 
have to say. And I will not even have to say that. 
Things will happen that will make it unimportant for 
her to ask. .She is dead. If he does not hear from 
her — but he will. Pshaw! But not soon. My God! 
not until I have felt his arms about me, not until I 
have felt his kisses. Oh, the weak idiot! To believe 
that she knows how to love! Love! What can she 
love? My adorable Harris shall love only me.” 

A flame burns in her marble cheeks and there is a 
light of blazing passion gleaming in her eyes. 

” I will marry him — marry him. Then I can mak^ 
a new history.” 

From this day she is excessively careful in her siege. 
No one could be more delicate. No one could be more 
discreet. She keeps him near her all she can; yet it 
ever seems to him that the appointments are all his, 
and that she has a coy reserve which makes her all the 
more attractive. She has experience and a kind of 
shrewd, intuitive tact that warns her where to stop in 
her allurements. She knows that Vanderveer’s pas- 
sion for Brauna has been^ sincere, and that he is held 
yet by his memories. But as the weeks go by she 
charms him out of his sadness. He begins to mingle 
again with the gay world. Especially is he to be seen 
at the unparalleled little dinners and dances that Miss 
Evanston gives, and it is soon whispered that Vander- 
veer will be off with the old love and on with the new 
before the winter goes by. 


64 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Blanche meanwhile has another constant visitor 
whom Vanderveer often meets going to the house or 
coming away, and wonders if he ought not to be 
jealous of him. 

Three months have passed now, and the busy 
whirl of social dissipation at its reckless height in New 
York has driven out of the minds of nearly everybody 
the tragedy of the summer. Blanche has heard no 
more from the fugitives. She has taken the most 
desperate and unusual precautions to prevent Vander- 
veer from learning the truth. She is sitting again in 
her locked room, reading over the letters. Her suc- 
cess she believes is near. Vanderveer will not much 
longer be able to resist her. He is becoming senti- 
mental and confidential. Blanche meanwhile carries 
in her soul a load of anxious apprehension. 

“ The time goes by — it goes by,” she murmurs to 
herself. “ They will not dare to return, they have not 
dared to write him yet. It is time he spoke. He shall 
speak soon. Ah! When he does. But then my 
danger only begins. Franqois merely means me to — 
wait. I have had almost enough of him. He comes 
here every day with his orders and his threats — he is 
of the past — at least, he soon will be. I will 
marry Vanderveer — then let us see what he can do.” 

As she says this she hears a ring at the door bell. 

“ It is Francois himself. How is it that one can tell 
by the manner of ringing a bell? Speak of Satan and 
he will appear.” 

She thrusts the fatal letters into her bosom, and 
goes out with her smiling face into the drawing-room. 

“ Monsieur d’Avigne,” announces the butler, as a 
tall, erect, somewhat soldierly looking man, with a de- 
cided air of distinction, enters the room. A heavy 
flowing black moustache hides his mouth, and heavy, 
drooping lashes shade his ever-shifting dark eyes. 

Ma ch'ere, mon amie^l salute you,” he says, with a 
great pretense of gallantry, kissing the pretty little 
hand of his hostess, and bowing very low. “ I find 
your cheeks as rosy as the dawn, and you as charming 
as ever. Does any one listen to my poor compliments, 
I wonder? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


65 


“ Peace, Fran(;ois! They are stale and unprofitable. 
1 knew how lovely I am long before you discovered 
it.” 

“ In the old days. Yes. But you grow upon me. 
Each day adds new charms. How elegantly you use 
The money. That dress never was made by itself. 
Like all your dresses, it grew upon your person. You 
were ever the amazement of the Rue ” 

“ No more. I am glad you came. I was near to 
having a shock, some weeks ago. I have decided to 
tell you what it is.” 

” Excellent. Whatever has shocked you is my en- 
emy. But how is this? I thought you proof against 
the weakness of being shocked. Dodo. A shock! 
Come, come — it is a fiction.” 

“ I am done with them. Henceforth and hereafter 
I shall always speak the truth. You hear that, 
Monsieur? ” 

She sits down confidentially beside him, with the 
freedom of intimate acquaintance, her beautiful eyes 
sparkling, her red lips smiling the while. 

It is an excellent and original idea. You will be 
a marked character in history. George Washington, 
the patron saint of the Americans, will pale beside 
you. Moreover, it is the only really effectual way to 
deceive anybody.” 

“ That is the very idea, mon ami, since everybody ex- 
pects one to lie.” 

And what did you say? A shock? ” 

Did I not say a shock? ” 

“ Pardon, madame — ma’mselle — pray tell me about 
the shock. Did you propose to Monsieur Vanderveer 
— and get a refusal? ” 

D'Avigne raises his delicate hand and brushes away 
a mass of fine black hair from his high, white fore- 
head. 

“ We shall joke together in the face of death, Fran- 
cois, I suppose. Sit over there a little farther away — 
in fact, the farther the better, so that I can see by your 
face how you bear it.” 

He laughs, and takes a chair by the table facing 
Blanche as he sits. 


66 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“And now the shock! I do not credit you. You 
do not shock at a raindrop.” 

“ This is more than a raindrop.” 

“ So was the affair in the Rue Navarin.” 

“ Let it be. Why must you forever drag out the 
ghosts? It was you who taught me to look and not 
tremble.” 

“ Not so. No one taught you. You have the 
nerve of a hundred heroes. But the shock? Am I not 
dying to hear it? ” 

“ No. If you were I should not tell it. I should 
let you die.” 

“ Thanks. But I am not dying, then. I will never 
die.” 

“ Not until you must. So of all of us. Well, then, 
my love, hear what I have learned. They did not 
drown. They live.” 

“The devil!” 

“ What? And are you shocked, too? Ha, ha, ha! 
And after such adventures as that of the Rue Navarin. 
You are weak. Monsieur.” 

She pouts and flouts at him with her entrancing 
piquancy, while she laughs mockingly at his sur- 
prise. 

“Ah! No, no! You are quite mistaken. I was 
not startled at all. Certainly not, fair one. It was 
more to hear you say ‘ my love,’ I assure you.” 

“ Oh! I mean nothing at all by that. It is a mere 
foolish habit. It is as much as to say that I abominate 
you and tolerate you. That is all. We are such old 
chums we ought to know how to hate each other de- 
cently, don’t you think? But my news. It is strictly 
true. Bah ! Was it not a scurvy trick for her to play? 
That adorable Vanderveer, he must be told at once, I 
suppose? That ends our little plan, you see, my good 
fellow.” 

“ It does? Not so. But I see you are merely teas- 
ing me. They are dead.” 

“ Read these, if you mean to insist that I am lying 
to you,” responds Blanche, taking Brauna’s letters 
from her bosom and tossing them to him. 

D’Avigne reads them slowly, noting first their date. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


67 


“ It complicates our plans, Dodo, dear,” he remarks, 
looking at her inquiringly. ” I think you show bad 
taste to open and read the inclosure.” 

” To be sure. But why will you say Dodo? Say 
Blanche. Dodo is a being of the past merely. Let 
her rest. But you see how we are brought to an end 
by this. Of course, you expect me to give Vander- 
veer his love note?” 

” Yes. He will not ask, I presume, how you came 
to open it, nor if you have read it. By the way, the 
date is not recent. Perhaps you won’t mind telling 
me why you have not given it him before?” 

“ Oh, I hadn’t the heart to spoil all our good friend- 
ship, you see. But now that I have resolved upon re- 
form, and to tell the truth henceforth ” 

” Yes. Haven’t I heard of Satan reforming, some- 
where? When are you going to take the letter to 
Monsieur Vanderveer? ” 

” When you become a saint — not before,” she says, 
with a laugh and a shrug of her shoulders. 

” Indefinitely postponed,” he rejoins, showing a 
gleam of white teeth as he smiles at her. “ I don’t 
seem to be any more saintly than you, do I? ” 

” We both hate saints, certainly. But seriously, we 
shall be quite equal to a little emergency like this, shall 
we not? Vanderveer is enormously rich, they say. 
And our money is going so awfully fast.” 

.She fixes a glittering, significant look upon the man 
and smiles. 

‘‘ Rich as Montford, of the Liverpool company?” 

“ Doubtless.” 

“ Who died suddenly ! ” 

” Under suspicious circumstances. Ah! Franqois, 
that was a blunder. Had we waited another three 
months we should be richer by ten thousand English 
pounds.” 

“ Not so. We should be in Australia — serving time. 
You would have astonished the whole colony. Such 
a remarkable convict! ” 

“Bah! I say it was a blunder. Montford was 
about to withdraw from the Liverpool company. If 
we had allowed him to do that, he would have willed 


68 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


me or given me his proceeds in cash. Instead of that 
he died, and we dared not wait for the probate. We 
had to be content to disappear with the cash that was 
in his vaults. It was a clear loss, I say. But let us 
not gossip. We have prospered on the simplicity of 
fools. Vanderveer is young. He shall live. He is 
more attractive than Montford. We are merely to 
pluck him — is that right? ” 

“ Yes. At least, we will let the circumstances deter- 
mine. Pity the English custom of marriage settle- 
ments is not also American. Montford thought he 
could put into the hands of an angel as much money as 
he could trust in a bank. I say it was good fortune for 
him to die. I would rather die myself than to think I 
am deceived in you. Dodo, beautiful Dodo. And he 
did not live to find out that instead of an angel you 
are a ” 

“ Cherub. Yes. Thank you. He went to heaven 
swearing that I am one. He was entirely right. You 
think so, too. He was not half as badly deceived as 

you. Some day, when you and I fall out But 

you may never live until then. What do you think of 
the shock? Is it not a genuine sensation? I feel un- 
easy.” 

" Yanderveer is ripe. Why do you not pluck him? 
He is slow as a sloth.” 

” Too slow, too slow by half.” 

” But the letters are lucky again. Do you not re- 
member the first day I saw you in Goidbeau’s house, 
when I assured you that if you would give me just one 
kiss with those lips of yours, that make me so mad 
with love for you, that you would be lucky as long as 
you live? Have you not had luck ever since, pray? 
The very first luck was to begin to shake off the hold 
of Goidbeau. Then we lived like royalty. We have 
had adventures, haven’t we? And there isn’t a wrinkle 
on your face yet to prove an unhappy moment. Goid- 
beau was an accommodating and sensible fellow, who 
saw clearly that you are not of his level. Shall genius 
like yours be tied to a clod. Not so! I have genius, 
too. Dodo, and we two have ever been more than a 
match for the world’s evil. The police of Paris 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


69 


never found such exciting objects of curiosity as you 
and I. But we were not forced to stay in Paris. 
New York is beastly, and Liverpool is dirty, but it is 
good to see the world. Some time we will return to 
Paris. But these letters. I say they are lucky again. 
Suppose she had written directly to Vanderveer.” 

“ Oh, she is sure to do that sooner or later — when 
she thinks it safe. Let me tell you what I have done. 
I have used Goidbeau.” 

“ He is in Russia, I hear.” 

“ Stupid I He went as far as the dock at the foot of 
Chambers Street. He is a Frenchman again. Goid- 
beau was lucky to find here the Nihilists with whom 
he consorted in Paris. I never had anything to do 
with them. But Goidbeau did. You were right in 
saying that he might be useful as a Nihilist some day. 
He has been, as you know. He was whipped for let- 
ting them escape, and good enough for him. Then he 
was ordered to Russia on some pretense. But he did 
not go. He merely shaved off his English whiskers, 
ceased to write his name Godby, and returned to 
French and bad English. Presto, he is ours again, 
and no Nihilist in his league would know him, he is 
so changed. Very well. By my advice he applied for 
a position as clerk in Vanderveer’s office. My recom- 
mendation was enough to secure him that position. 
He receives the mail, Frangois, dear.” 

“Magnificent plotter! It is superb! You are di- 
viner than ever. So! Then if she writes to him you 
will get the letters. Exactly! But that won’t last. 
Such arrangements never do. The thing to do now is 
to bring Vanderveer to time.” 

“ Exactly. That is the thing about which I wish to 
consult you. I mean to marry Vanderveer and go on 
mv wedding trip — perhaps to Paris.” 

Admirable! ” 


70 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

CHAPTER IX. 


WE LIVE AND DIE TOGETHER.” 

The common adventuress is ordinarily unattractive, 
but here is a remarkable actress, dealing with trag- 
edies, and projecting plots worthy the finest and most 
accomplished conspirator. Her face is as unruffled 
as a child’s, and her laugh as simple and natural as a 
cherub’s, to which celestial being she has compared 
herself. Fortunately nature is not lavish in making 
such combinations. Sin marks the average trans- 
gressor, but now and then a being is created who 
contrives to be fair in proportion to his depravity. 

She smiles upon d’Avigne from her seat, tapping 
her pretty foot on the carpet, and looking like a well- 
developed schoolgirl, or a young lady engaged in an 
innocent conversation about the latest sensation of 
society. 

“Yes; I fancy going back to Paris. Mrs. Vander- 
veer! How aristocratic that sounds, Francois, dear. 
Do you not think he is handsome? ” 

“ Bah, no. He has no style. No repose. But what 
matters it? His money will spend quite as well. Only, 
I do not admire your taste.” 

“ That is merely because you are vain and jealous, 
mon ami. You compare him with yourself. But he is 
far handsomer.” 

Franqois looks at her fixedly. He does not know 
how far she may go in her admiration of Vanderveer. 
He thinks her heartless, yet at times has fancied that 
she might be reckless in love, if she should conceive a 
genuine passion. When she speaks of Vanderveer 
there is a slight change in her tones, something in her 
manner that he does not like. He has felt all this 
without defining it to himself. 

“ I advise,” he remarks, slowly, “ that you do not 
take your wedding trip to Paris. It might do for 
you, but as for me, I have reason to prefer New York. 
And how could you ever be happy without my com- 
pany — even if you have a husband. Besides, I should 
not really dare to trust you with a husband. You 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


71 


might get a conscience in a little while, and then 
where would 1 be? Besides, Paris is too far. We 
will find it better to secure his money early. Have 
you planned that well, Dodo? It is important.” 

“ I attend to everything, do I not? Have I not long 
ago appealed to him for advice about my own invest- 
ments? That was a very good way to inform myself 
how he stands as to his. I can put my hands on more 
than we realized from Montford within a week from 
the time I marry him, I am sure.” 

“ It is delightful. You plan everything. How do 
you come on with him? ” 

“ Ah! That is the whole point of the matter. To 
make him speak at once, is the problem. Advise me.” 

“ When you get the opportunity, tell him that you 
are going to Europe with me. Say that I am to es- 
cort you, as I happen to be going also.” 

“Admirable! He is already jealous of you. He 
actually asked me why you come here so much. But 
we have no time to lose. Should he by any chance 
learn that Brauna Carrington still lives we could not 
win. And he is very rich. It will be our last great 
adventure. If it succeeds, we will then reform, my 
dear — reform.” 

“ Sacre! Virtue would kill me of ennui in three 
months. The whole interest in life would be gone. 
Ah! the glorious pique there is in outwitting the sharp- 
nosed creatures of the police department. And I sup- 
pose I shall never be really satisfied even after we 
have put this rich romantic darling in the same ” 

“ Have done! We will put him nowhere at all. He 
is destined to live.” 

There conies a change in the girlish face that 
hardens it a little as she closes her pretty lips very 
closely together over the glitter of her pearly teeth. 
D’Avigne looks at her sharply, a kind of chilly menace 
stealing into his eyes. 

“ Be more careful of your emotions. Dodo, pretty 
Dodo. You might lead me to suspect by a trifle that 
you even love this fine god Vanderveer,” he jeers. 

She drops her eyes and wavers in her composure, 
while a little flush of color creeps into her cheeks. 


72 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Bah! Of course. Every woman loves him. He 
is quite divine. And what if I do love the dear crea- 
ture. Who can prevent, pray? Not you, Monsieur 
d’Avigne.’’ 

She laughs and shrugs her shoulders, and looks at 
him in a kind of piquant defiance that covers as well 
as possible the tumult that his words have stirred in 
her. It is good acting, and deceives her companion 
a little. A little, but not quite enough ; for he reflects a 
moment while he scrutinizes her, and then replies: 

“ Oh 1 So you contemplate a rebellion. Cunning 
Dodo! I never believed you a fool. It is quite impos- 
sible. Why do 3 ^ou plague and make sport of me 
thus? You will even dare to desert me next. It will 
break my heart. Dodo. Yours, too. What could 
either of us do without the other? Life would be ab- 
solutely worthless.” 

‘‘ Your heart? That is too good, now! You make 
me laugh, Francois. But if I find a handsomer and a 
richer man, why should I not change the scene? De- 
sert you! Pray who owns me, anyway?” 

“ A most incomparable man. One M. d’Avigne — 
at least, that is what he is called in New York. It is 
long ago since he was christened, and I forget his other 
names. He owns you, of course! Do you deny it? 
Then I will remind you that the stranglers of Paris 
even recognized the claim, and on one occasion when 
they saw clearly that you had received from Ruel five 
hundred francs, and had been observed coming out of 
the house of the Minister of Justice at midnight, they 
seized you, and Boutillierre, the inkmakePs apprentice, 
had in his hand the same cord which had been used in 
former times by that famous strangler, Antoine Ra- 
gout. 

“ You were not pale, I remember, though they had 
tied your hands and your feet, and had left you for 
five minutes to gaze upon the great picture of the Vir- 
gin in the corner of M. Raphael’s den. It was then 
that I demonstrated to Boutillierre, and to the others, 
that you were the ablest woman of the Rue Laval, and 
offered to be responsible for you if the cord should 
again be hung on the great hook where it was always 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


73 


kept as an example to the weak. Is it not as I have 
related, Dodo, dear? ” 

Conjuring thus with the ghosts of her history, 
d’Avigne keeps his glittering eyes fixed on her, seek- 
ing to terrify and cow her. He is uneasy at her de- 
ceit, and her over fine acting. He has feared before 
that Vanderveer is a slight element of discord in his 
projects. But he believed he could manage Dodo. 

“ Ah ! ” she says, without any apparent conscious- 
ness of the menace in his manner. “ It is true you 
needed my talents so much that you preferred to over- 
look my visit to the house of the Minister of Justice. 
But I never really assented to such a preposterous claim 
as you have just made. Own me? That is a most 
absurd folly, mon ami. It is I who own you. Well, let 
it go. On the whole, I don’t own you. It would be 
troublesome to have such a disagreeable responsibility. 
I like facts. Fictions weary me. The fact is better, 
and the fact is merely that you and I have been part- 
ners in several interesting adventures, to the success 
of which I contributed far more than you did. Part- 
ners at will, Francois! I have forgotten the affair of the 
five hundred francs. It is stupid to remember a thing 
of that sort so many years. As for me, I own myself. 
Goidbeau will testify to you that that is the ideal thing 
for me — and for you too. You remember that Goid- 
beau had a fancy once that he owned me. He was 
cured. He has no disposition to recur to the de- 
lusion.” 

She leans back voluptuously in her chair, and looks 
at d’Avigne with a soft, innocent smile, that telk him 
she has recovered her magnificent self-possession en- 
tirely, and can not be thrown from it again soon. But 
he says, with a laugh : 

You are too fine to scold. Dodo. I even begin to 
think more than ever that you are in love. But when 
you are all ready to desert me, adorable partner, you 
should promise to notify me in season.” 

“ Certainly. I will give notice in a manner that 
you can appreciate. I mean, tell the police where they 
may find you — where they may find ” 

She pauses and eyes him with artless blandness, and 


74 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


he, interrupting, finishes her sentence far differently 
than she intended: 

“ Where to find — us. My fine Dodo! To think of 
putting that fine, sensuous head into the tiger’s mouth 1 
Do I not know that you are lovelier than an angel 
and abler than a fiend But you would fare ill in a 
contest with the man who succeeded without difficulty 
in outwitting the most skillful detectives in France. 
Did I not leave my mark every month? Sometimes 
it lay at the door of the Minister, of Justice himself. 
Paris has not forgotten the stranglers of the Seine.” 

He speaks carelessly, and smiles as he speaks, as 
if they were discussing merely the merits of a break- 
fast. If this woman, companion with him in many 
offenses, shudders at the undertone of menace in his 
voice, or at the look that now and then is flashed from 
his black eyes, she shows nothing in her manner. They 
might be merely a pair of friends gossiping of the 
weather. 

“ Of course, my love, you do not think such boast- 
ing really becoming to your reputation. I am ashamed 
of you. It is bad taste. And I am sure I care so little 
about your innocent blustering that I shall not re- 
member it until you are through speaking. Dodo has 
not learned to turn pale even yet. What could you do, 
pray? Parhleti! If you touched me I could prick you 
with my little poniard — and presto I in five minutes you 
would be dead — as dead as old Monsieur Rigot, of the 
Rue de Naples.” 

“ Ma cherie, such defiance is charming from your 
fine, red lips. It is more delicious to quarrel with 
you than to agree with any other woman on earth. 
But no more of it now. Our adventure binds us to- 
gether. Besides, as I have said, you can live without 
me no more than I without you. It is the money we 
are pursuing, is it not? Your beautiful Vanderveer 
may live forever — after we have plucked him. But 
don’t love the nice wretch. If you should, very likely 
you would find him some fine morning with a red 
mark on his neck, stark dead in his bed. As for you 
and me, Dodo, we live and die together.” 

“ If you don’t get cross, but make an effort to be 


DOUBLE JEOBARDY. 75 

agreeable. You are unusually disagreeable to-day. 
Give me back the letters.” 

“ Yours. This one to Vanderveer I will keep. I 
might wish to copy it.” 

” What do you mean? ” 

She has caught a little sense of a cunning intention 
in his manner. 

“ It might become necessary to shock him also. I 
guard against you, charming Dodo. He need never 
know that you have opened his letters, especially this 
letter. It lies with me.” 

“ Give me the letter. I prefer to keep it myself.” 

D’Avigne smiles and throws one letter only on the 
table. The letter for Y anderveer he folds and puts in 
his pocket. He thinks the time may come when he 
would wish to have the means of opening Vander- 
veer’s eyes in case she should really care enough for 
him to lead her to trifle with their common interests, 
for he is not wholly easy about the matter. 

“ You will regret,” she says, in a low tone. “ But 
regrets always come after it is too late.” 

Regret! I never regret. Dodo dear. Kiss me 
before I am gone, charming one.” 

He rises and looks at his watch. When he again 
looks up, Blanche has disappeared through the cur- 
tains, sweeping out of the room like a noiseless an- 
imal. 

And without even a kiss,” he murmurs, smiling at 
the curtain, still moving where she let it fall behind her. 
Then he laughs softly and puts on his hat in the hall. 

“ The soft, lovely kitten,” he says to himself. “ Too 
bad! Too bad! But I really fear I shall be obliged 
to put the cord to her lovely neck by and by. Poor, 
beautiful wretch ! ” 


CHAPTER X. 

I HAVE DONE IT.” 

Not many hours have passed since Monsieur 
d’Avigne’s call when he and Miss Evanston meet 
again at a little social function where Blanche, now a 


76 


DOQBLE JEOPARDY. 


vision of loveliness, in a cloud of blue and pink silk 
and gauze, is, as usual, surrounded by admirers. Tim- 
ing his attention, Francois manages to come up to her, 
bearing some dainty, just as Harris is before her with 
his offering. 

“ Permit me,” remarks M. d’Avigne, bowing very 
low, as he presents the confection. 

” Pardon, I am ahead. Permit me,” cries Mr. Van- 
derveer. 

” It is delicious — and I will permit you both,” re- 
plies the gracious beauty. ” Watch me now, and see 
which of these ices I destroy with the greater delight.” 

M. d’Avigne, smiling and elegant, reaches out a 
dainty little folded napkin, and says gayly: 

At least I shall have the honor to present you this. 
Miss Evanston— with my most sincere compliments, 
and wishing you a pleasant evening.” 

He gives her a significant look and fans the folded 
napkin before her until she understands with some 
curiosity that it contains information for her. As she 
takes the proffered napkin, Vanderveer, at her elbow, 
says, sentimentally: 

” Monsieur d’Avigne is a diplomat. Miss Evanston. 
But his ice is far inferior to mine. He brings you 
but one flavor, while mine has three.” 

” True, Mr. Vanderveer,” she replies, showing her 
white teeth in the most ravishing of smiles. “ There- 
fore I shall eat yours first. Monsieur d’Avigne shall 
be content with having supplied me with a napkin. It 
is pretty as an art work too. I mean to keep it for a 
pattern until I give my next evening.” 

She thrusts it in a fold of her gown as she flashes at 
Francois a smile and a look that says to him very 
plainly : 

“ I understand you.” 

Aloud she continues her artless repartee with the 
man whom she has determined shall this very evening 
ask her to become his wife: 

It is my experience, Mr. Vanderveer. I mean 
my inexperience. When I am older I shall be able 
to express my preference for ices with greater dis- 
creetness. They say one does not learn to be sly be- 
fore one is thirty.” 


DOUliLE JEOPARDY. 


77 


Thirty! And he has never before asked himself 
how old this delicious doll really may be. She is 
witty and composed enough to be of any dreadful age, 
but her artless face is eighteen — not a day more. 

“ Oh, I am satisfied,” he says, with a laugh. “ So 
is Monsieur d’Avigne, I trust. He has a compliment 
for his napkin and 1 for the ice. It is quits.” 

There! A drop on my dress! I believe you did 
it too, you nice bungler. Now I will punish you for 
it by retiring while I save this lovely silk. Excuse 
me a moment, Mr. Vanderveer — and Monsieur.” 

It was most prettily done, and very naturally. She 
gives the ices over to Vanderveer, because that would 
be a reason for returning to him, with a warm smile 
that makes him feel unusually satisfied with himself, 
and then loses herself in the distance while he gazes 
after her, wondering in his heart why he had not be- 
fore this made that odious d’Avigne’s attentions im- 
possible by speaking a word that, in the past few 
weeks, has been on his lips more than once. 

Upstairs Blanche finds a place by herself. She tears 
open d’Avigne’s note and reads, with dilating eyes: 

“ I have discovered two things: First, Ruel has heard 
that Dodo, of the Rue Laval, is in New York play- 
ing the old tricks in high society. He guesses, do 
you not imagine, that Franqois of the Seine is with 
her. Secondly, Goidbeau has found out that the 
hiding-place of Alvaroff and his daughter is known to 
Golfi, the chief of the Nihilists, and that they are 
likely to be seized in a few days. You have, therefore, 
to work on an emergency. But you know how, in- 
comparable one! Tell him you will start for Europe 
next week — to remain. He is fascinated, plainly. He 
will yield. Work quickly, and there will yet be time. 
You are right about the bonds. Goidbeau says he 
knows them to be in V’s safe, unregistered and negoti- 
able.” 

Blanche, panting and shivering, reads this through 
twice. She has changed in a week past. Franqois has 
seen that. She seems to have more mobility than be- 
fore in the betrayal of her emotions. 


78 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Ruel's men! ” she says, under her breath. Then 
she recovers and smiles again, until her beautiful teeth 
gleam between her parted lips. 

“ A fig for Ruel! Let me resume my evening.” 

Shaking herself free from her disturbed condition, 
she returns without a cloud on her face; showing her- 
self where she knows Vanderveer can see, she shoots a 
glance at d'Avigne that may well be mistaken by a 
jealous admirer for a dangerous glance of confidence, 
or even of love, and then talks nonsense for five 
minutes in the most charming fashion to a group of 
men that gather about her as the moths flutter in a 
candle flame. She knows he will be unable to endure 
that, and that he will come. He feels the magnet, and 
draws near, as she expected him to do, now a little 
and then a little, until he joins the group and carries 
her off after a time, to a sly corner, with his heart 
nearly raging to remember that glance she has flung 
at the odious Frenchman. And here he has her all 
to himself, paying no attention to her artless protests 
against such gross discourtesy to the remainder of the 
company. 

But I forgive you,” she says, pensively, seated by 
his side, and playing on him with her blue eyes, her 
breath and pose charming him with voluptuous in- 
fluences. “ Especially,” she adds, “ as you will have 
very few more opportunities.” 

“ Few more? What does that mean? ” he demands, 
expecting some pretty jest in reply. 

“ Oh! You haven’t heard, then? We are off next 
Wednesday to France, Spain, the Orient, heaven 
knows where. All over the Continent, I suppose.” 

She sighs, and taps her white glove against her 
fan. 

“ Impossible! What — go and — and not a — a word 
to me?” cries Harris, in a tone so full of injured sur- 
prise that she laughs, and replies, smartly: 

“ And why to you, pray? Truly, we haven’t told our 
friends, yet, any of them. The date was fixed rather 
suddenly — only yesterday. It will be delightful. You 
see we intended to go this winter, but not quite so 
soon. But we found out — Auntie and I — that Mon- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


79 


sieur d'Avigne is to sail on Wednesday, so we take ad- 
vantage of his company. He will be such a delight- 
ful escort — he is so polite and so helpful. Delightful 
company, don’t you think? Besides, he has traveled 
so much he can give us all the points. And we are 
both as helpless as chickens in water in the matter 
of getting on away from home. Every one cheats 
you so! But Monsieur d’Avigne can take care of me, 
do you not think so? ” 

“ The d euce he can! ” says Vanderveer, almost 

swearing. “ Pray what do you think will become of 
me meanwhile? ” 

“Oh! I’m sure I can’t possibly imagine. There is 
so much, however, in New York with which to console 
oneself ” 

“ What — and you gone? There won’t be any New 
York left, I say.” 

“Stupid! New York is large and gay. I don’t 
pretend that the city will be quite the same after I take 
my delectable self out of it. Of course not. I am 
a bright and shining light, but all the lesser lights will 
be left.” 

She tosses her head and hums a little air as she tan- 
talizes him with her beauty and sparkling glances. 
She has felt that he is on the verge, and that in his 
surprise and regret he has mingled, whether con- 
sciously or unconsciously, a sudden and resolute pas- 
sion that is in danger of overflowing upon her pres- 
ently if they are not interrupted. She glances about 
and understands that they are alone. The heavy cur- 
tains shut them within a small alcove apartment, and 
no one will intrude, perhaps. 

As for Vanderveer, he never before experienced 
such an emotion as he now feels toward d’Avigne. To 
send Blanche of¥ to Europe where this Frenchman will 
have every possible opportunity to play upon her heart, 
if indeed he has not already captured it — it would be 
abominable! Does he, then, love her? Well, the 
presence of an artful, beautiful, sensuous woman, 
wrapped in her perfumes and bewildering him with 
the resplendent combination of her charms and wit 
and loveliness — these are influences that a man like 


8o 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Y anderveer finds it hard to resist. Blanche to him is 
all purity, all wit, all beauty, all coyness and charm 
and soul of worth. Vanderveer now for the first time 
begins to realize how she has taken hold upon his life. 
She has been with him so much! She has solaced him 
when he would have been unspeakably lonely. She 
has never been disagreeable, and never tires him 
with petty hobbies and moralisms. Then, too, he has 
been enmeshed in the thrall of her sensuousness, that 
rounds itself inevitably into view with every shrug of 
her white shoulders and every animal-like pose and 
poise of her faultless form. He could not have sworn 
that he loved her, but he realized that he could not 
be happy with her gone. No one could fill her place 
— ro one is like her. If this was not love, it was a 
kind of infatuation that might easily be mistaken for 
love. And in the maze of it Vanderveer will be lost 
as hopelessly as if it were genuine and spiritual. 

He looks upon her now with this confused sense of 
her power over him, as she sits there in her evening 
gauzes floating about her, and coos and laughs with 
him, and as he feels more and more her magnetic hold 
drawing his soul into hers, he resolves to speak. 

“ Wednesday is a great way off, anyway,” he says, 
a smile breaking in his face. “ And when it 
conies I don’t intend to let you go. We will wait 
until spring.” 

We? You speak in riddles. Are you going, 
too? All the better. But if you do, then you will 
have to go next week — at least, if you go with us. 
That will be too lovely. Why not?” 

“ But I am not going next week. Neither are you. 
I won’t have it. Only Monsieur d’Avigne will go next 
week, and alone. We are not going so soon. That is, 
unless you prefer to take the wedding trip that early.” 

It is out — in a quaint and blunt way indeed, but 
she understands it — had expected it — is’ prepared for 
it. Arching her eyebrows in well feigned astonish- 
ment, while the blood comes into her cheeks with 
the gratification of success, she drops her eyes, and 
says, with a demure laugh : 

“ Monsieur d’Avigne and I are not going on a wed- 
ding trip. We are not engaged, poor man.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 8l 

She darts her eyes at him daringly, defying him to 
continue. 

“ D'Avigne? Let him alone,” cries Harris, almost 
savagely. “ What has he to do with our wedding trip? 
It is with me you will go on the wedding trip. If you 
say no, I will not take the answer — I will merely 
know in that case that you mean yes. But you are 
going to say yes in a minute. You couldn’t say any- 
thing else unless you fib shockingly with your beau- 
tiful eyes. Say it now.” 

He takes her hand, warm and soft, and struggling 
a very little, but not enough to be in the least danger 
of escaping, and looks into her eyes with a flame in his 
own that makes even this artful woman tremble and 
sigh, with her exultation and delight. She is carna- 
tion now, and breathes on his cheek with her breath 
that comes and goes with the undulations of her bosom. 
Vanderveer bends and winds her in his embrace, as 
their lips meet. 

“ You bold, darling wretch,” she says, laughing, as 
she draws away a little. “ I don’t see as you have left 
me anything to say. But you needn’t kiss my lips 
out. There, there! But if you had spoken sooner, 
now — but I think I will say no since you threaten 
to call it the other thing. No! no! no! no! Besides, 
how dare you propose in such a wicked way? Did you 
hear me say no? ” 

She does not, however, attempt to release herself 
from his embracing arm. He laughs, and kisses her 
all he will, and says at length : 

“ Yes, I hear you. Four noes are equal to at least 
eight consents. Besides, you kissed me too. So now 
that is settled. You won’t go to Europe, nor anywhere 
at all, with Monsieur d’Avigne.” 

“ Oh! But I will. He has made all our arrange- 
ments. But there’s nothing to prevent you following 
after in a few weeks.” 

Oh, I can be ready to go along. We will take the 
wedding trip. The sooner the better. Wednesday is 
just a week away. Too much time by half. I will 
go down and engage the bridal stateroom at once. The 
name of the ship, please.” 


82 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Horrid man ! Never! What, marry in a week? 
Not for a year, at the least. It isn’t decent. Go 
away.” 

“ Only with you, dear. But if you think it too soon 
you can postpone it a little.” 

“ Neither, you persistent fellow. When I get back 
will be too soon. You can practice the delights of 
solitude until then. Oh, Harris! ” 

She lowers her tone and looks her love into his eyes. 
She loves him. And who shall say in these moments 
how her love is fighting in her with the memories of 
her sullied history? Could she now but tear out of 
her all that! For her love, and the knowledge that he 
loves her, has created a conscience at this supreme mo- 
ment. She begins to long, in the light of his divine 
eyes, to fling that stained past into the gulfs of chaos 
forever. 

But she will not yield to her self-horror for an in- 
stant. She enjoys too well this climax of delight. But 
under her pleasure there is a voice that tries to cry 
out “Unclean, unclean!” She shuts this conscience 
up in a cage, and will not permit it to haunt her. It 
is only his love, and his presence, that thus brings out 
in her all that is best, and makes her a self-accused 
wretch. But her will is strong, and she smiles on 
and alertly pursues the plot she is weaving. Oh, to 
have won him! To have felt the joy of his embraces, 
and the touch of his lips — for this will she not dare 
the tortures of hell? She loves him so! 

It is the first and only love of her depraved life. It 
has in it her selfish and sensuous passion, no doubt, 
but if she has a soul it takes hold of her soul also. And 
she would gladly have dallied there with him forever. 
But she does not forget the emergency that Francois 
has revealed. 

Vanderveer laughs at her denials, and continues, 
resolutely: 

“ I intend to have my own way about it, Blanche, 
dear. Of course, I always do. Tell me the name 
of that ship, now. Why should I love you so much, 
and be obliged to see you slip of¥ just when I have 
you safe, pray? Oh, you are not a blind schoolgirl 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


83 


not to have expected this. You have seen — my eyes 
have told you. You knew that you had taken her 
place long ago. So you must not leave me now. Say 
you will not — my own! ” 

‘‘ Oh, Vanderveer — Harris. Oh! You love me! 
Yes! Your eyes are telltales, of course. But one 
doesn’t usually propose with the eyes alone. I of 
course had no particular right to make my plans to 
accord with your eyes, had I? You unreasonable 
man? But you men always lay the blame on us.” 

“ Of course. That is the thing to do, isn’t it? But 
you can remedy the mischief. I say a week is a long 
tim.e. Now don’t dispute that, please. You will be 
ready now — of course. Wednesday at noon. Say 
yes! ” 

She must not dally at that. She knew he would pro- 
pose that, and she only makes a decent protest. Then 
she says, with a laugh and a pout: 

“ I haven’t a dress to be married in, anyway. If 
you tease me I will wear calico. It will be scandal- 
ous. To marry in six days! And it takes three 
months’ quick work to make a little bit of an outfit in 
which to get married.” 

“ Nonsense! Madame Donovan will have you in 
the most elegant dress inside of six days that ever as- 
tonished the avenue. I guarantee that. And as for 
milliners, they will bury you in bonnets and laces be- 
fore that time. It is yes, then? ” 

“ You persistent, nice tease! Auntie will show you 
how impossible and absurd your haste is. A week, 
only think! But the consequence will be that you 
will marry a fright. But I suppose — well, we are going 
on the ‘ Arizona.’ ” 

If is settled. He is snared, and in a week she 
will find a reason for some little postponement of the 
trip. There will be, according to the plan, a some- 
what quieter little wedding than Blanche would have 
enjoyed, perhaps. But she is not posing before the 
public greatly. She is greatly disturbed by the threat 
from Paris, and much more disquieted by the thought 
that this cup, now at her very lips, may be dashed down 
by the resurrection of her rival — it stirs her with mad 


84 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


impatience to put herself and Vanderveer both be- 
yond the reach of that possibility. 

“ If you keep away from the house and don’t bother 
me too much,” she says, gayly, returning Vander- 
veer’s kisses coyly, “ possibly 1 may manage to get 
one dress together — you obstinate creature! But you 
will have to settle this thing with Auntie.” 

A girl in leading strings could not be more con- 
siderate of ” Auntie.” 

“ Oh! ” replies the lover, “ there are dresses in Paris, 
even in Spain, I fancy. And I almost believe you have 
two or three that are wearable now. One week.” 

He bends over her, looks his passion into her eyes, 
makes her thrill with the soft touch of his hand on 
hers, and after a few more tender exchanges of senti- 
ment, they go back into the parlors, Blanche carrying 
in her heart, paramount above all other feelings, the 
consciousness that she has won him, and that he loves 
her. She has an air of self-conscious proprietorship 
which of course sets all the house to whispering slyly, 
and the company in general soon have little doubt 
of an engagement. 

But her brow contracts a little as her eyes fall on 
d’Avigne. 

Her evil genius! 

To look at him recalls her — drags her down from 
her high exultation. If it were not for him she might 
be honorable again, perhaps — might even sponge con- 
science out and live and die with Vanderveer. Now 
she feels his hand on her heartstrings, and shudders in 
the midst of her triumph, to be recalled to the sting 
and curse of her history. Ah! She must defeat and 
destroy this viper or this dream of mad love will be as 
short as the climax of a tragedy. He has to speak but 
a word and this dashing lover, with his aristocratic 
lineage and instincts, will spurn her to the dust, to 
grovel there forever in her shame. Retribution will 
bring irretrievable misery now, to cover her and ruin 
her, unless she is greater and more subtle than 
d’Avigne. Is she? 

An^ way, she will dare this desperate battle with 
him. Her wit against his, and a duel to the death ! 


Double jeoeardv. 


^5 


She has not failed of devices to cover her tracks. 
Even Ruel’s men, if set face to face with her, could not 
be certain of her identity, she thinks. She will go on to 
her wedding, and then, and meanwhile, she will weave 
about this criminal of the Seine — her fellow criminal 
— a web that will enmesh him without injury to her- 
self. 

She looks at him now — this remarkable actress — 
with a doll-like smile, and a little wave of her fan. 
that says to this confederate of her secrets in perfectly 
intelligible language: 

^ I have done it.’’ 

Then she chatters away to Harris, and no one could 
dream, looking in her placid face, that it covers such 
fears and plots. 

Vanderveer, feeling on his arm the magnetic touch 
of her hand, and gazing down into her incomparable 
blue eyes, charmed, entranced, exultant, nevertheless 
now and then amid the throng, in the sound of the 
music, and surrounded by the lights and perfumes, 
strangely seems to hear a voice out of the past, and 
there floats before him ever and again the darker eyes 
and diviner face of that one whom he thinks of as lying 
in the peaceful stillness of old ocean’s slumberous 
breast. The vision saddens him in spite of his new- 
found and exciting pleasure in the company of his 
beautiful fiancee. 

Francois comes carelessly over, saying: 

“ I have missed you. Miss Evanston. Did you suc- 
ceed in removing the spot? ” 

Vanderveer sees in this a mere inquiry about the 
spot upon her dress. But to her it means: “Did 
you accomplish your purpose effectually?” 

She looks at him and nods her head, and replies 
with a merry laugh: 

“ I have been telling Mr. Vanderveer that you had 
engaged staterooms on the ‘ Arizona ’ for next 
Wednesday for Auntie and me. And do you know. 
Monsieur d’Avigne, he was so dreadfully afraid of be- 
ing lonesome here in New York with us away, he has 
insisted on going with us. The absurd man! ” 

“ With us? Happy, I am sure,” says Franqois, pre- 


S6 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


tending to look crestfallen. '' I trust you gave him 
permission to go, Miss Evanston?” 

“Did I? Well — he is a persistent creature. You 
never could guess how he begged to go. I had to 
consent. But I trust neither of us will ever regret it. 
Do you think I will, Monsieur d’Avigne? ” 

“ Regret it? I don’t think I understand,” he re- 
plies, a little stiffly, as if he did not care to talk about 
the affairs of Mr. Vanderveer, but Blanche laughs at 
him, and says, demurely: 

“ Yes. Regret. You see I have promised to marry 
him before we start. Give him your congratulations, 
now.” 

“ What? Ah — oh — ” stammers the expert actor, 
“ to be sure. Most happy! Mr. Vanderveer, my good 
wishes. Most unexpected, I am sure. I greatly fear 
my business will after all delay me. But not you at 
all. I shall be glad to serve you by turning the fares 
over to Mr. Vanderveer.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

“ IF HE WERE BUT DEAD.” 

On the evening of the next day after Vanderveer’s 
proposal to Blanche Evanston a carriage driven rap- 
idly down Broadway stops before the building in 
which that gentleman’s office is located. A woman, 
cloaked and veiled, alights from this carriage, and 
passes into a little alley beside the building. The car- 
riage draws half a block away and there waits. 

Blanche enters the building, now deserted except by 
a drowsy janitor and the man whom she has come here 
by appointment to see. It is Godby — Goidbeau by a 
little restoration of his proper identity. He is clean- 
shaven and wears a red wig — a change sufficient to 
disguise him beyond recognition on any casual in- 
spection from the knowledge of his former acquaint- 
ance among the Nihilists. 

“ Ah! You expected me, I see,” says Blanche, lift- 
ing her veil. “ Take me to his office.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


87 


“ To be sure, Mam’selle ” 

“ Stop, Goidbeau! I am not Mam’selle. Say Miss 
Evanston. Never anything else. And you are James, 
or you are Smith. Don’t forget. Either will do. To 
be sure, when we are entirely alone it matters less — 
but the habit is bad. Don’t let mistakes of speech 
grow on you. Smith. Be as careful as I am.” 

“ You are in no danger of permitting me to forget, 
I see. Miss Evanston. Your name is Miss Evans- 
ton until I die. This way. The elevators stop at six. 
We must climb the stairs.” 

Blanche follows him in silence, and in a brief time 
they are shut in together in Vanderveer’s luxurious 
office. 

“ Sit over there, please. I wish to talk with you.” 

She waves her hand toward a chair, and Goidbeau 
seats himself, as directed. Blanche eyes him for a 
moment, calculating her way. She has had a day in 
which to take her resolves and lay her plans. Her sit- 
uation makes her desperate. She has concluded that 
the only thing now is to stake everything on a grand 
coup. She has entered her present condition in a 
scheme of mere robbery on a large scale, as the confed- 
erate and to some extent the creature of another. She 
has found herself on the threshold of success, with the 
original scheme hateful to her imagination and herself 
transformed from a base adventuress into a possible 
bride, to whom the past might be as the history of 
another soul, while her own will take new shapes 
and walk new paths. 

Her confederate must be abandoned and destroyed. 
For Vanderveer and for herself more, she will send 
him to his doom as freely as she would crush a snake. 
And in the day that has passed, postponing the trous- 
seau and everything else, she has hardened herself to 
dare this last act in her drama of crime, before she 
enters upon her new life. Then she will bury memory 
in the deep grave of oblivion, go to the ends of the 
earth with him until she has forgotten; she will live 
with him and die with him — her good angel and her 
adorable god. But Francois first. 

” I wish to recall Paris — the Rue Laval,” she be- 


83 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


gins, toying with her glove that she has drawn off 
from one hand. “ Tell me how you like your position 
here. No letters yet? ” 

“ None. But they will strike before long. I learned 
that much. I have a friend with the Golfi gang, as I 
told you. But why do you speak of Paris? Were 
you ever in Paris — Miss Evanston? ” 

Goidbeau chuckles, and winks coarsely at this witti- 
cism, as he thinks it. 

“Yes; with you. I wish now to go again. Paris, 
lovely Paris,” she murmurs, dreamily. “ How would 
you also like to go to Paris, Godby? ” 

She speaks so slyly and threateningly that Goidbeau, 
who knew her of old, and reads the undertone of her 
speech as well as the actual meaning of the words, 
shivers a little, and looks at her keenly. 

“ It was a plain question. Why do you no longer 
understand plain questions, Godby? You used to be 
a shrewd rogue, not needing to be told twice. I asked 
if you would like to go to Paris.” 

“ On what errand, then? It all depends. On some 
accounts it is less agreeable than New York.” 

“ But not if Paris were just a little safe — ah, Mr. 
Godby?” 

“ If you called me Pierre Goidbeau — of the Rue La- 
val — no one would hear. And it sounds Parisian com- 
pared with vile English Godby.” 

“ Very well, Pierre Goidbeau of the Rue Laval — you 
are likeiv to have the opportunitv soon to visit Paris. 
I hear.”’ 

She speaks in the same dreamy tone that always 
means to Goidbeau that she is threatening him, 
and that she had some startling thing to say. He 
shivers again and keeps silent, watching her in fear. 

“ Yes,” she goes on, slowly. “ In fact, I am aware 
that RueFs men are arranging to give you a free pas- 
sage.” 

“Ruel! The devil!” 

“ Smooth, Pierre! It is only a little matter of hav- 
ing your head cut off with Finisterre’s guillotine. You 
will not feel it half a minute — the nice, darling knife. 
Monsieur Guillotine was a benefactor of his race, who 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


89 


invented the charming contrivance. It was con- 
cocted just before the Revolution and just in season for 
France. Beautiful Guillotine! ’’ 

“Tush! For God’s sake stop your horrible chat- 
ter, Dodo! Monsieur Finisterre will never put my 
head in his basket.’’ 

“ You are doomed already! ” 

She fixes her glittering eyes on him and awaits the 
effect of her words. Nothing could be more terrifying 
or more dramatic than this wonderful woman when 
she chooses, and Goidbeau actually cowers and 
shrinks away from her, as she utters these ominous 
and threatening words. 

“ You wish to frighten me. Dodo. It won’t do. 
What are you trying to do? ” 

“ FraiK^ois is about to betray you to the police, who 
will turn you over to Ruel’s men. He wishes now to 
be rid of you forever.” 

Goidbeau, turning very pale, nevertheless rallies and 
says, doggedly: 

“ I don’t believe it. He would not dare. Pardieu! 
The Paris hounds would give a thousand francs for 
him to every sou on me. He would only insure his 
own downfall. You are crazy, Dodo.” 

“ Bah! Was I ever wont to talk as a fool, Pierre? 
Listen to me. Within ten days you will be seized. 
Monsieur d’Avigne will not be in evidence. He will 
be in New Orleans, in Alaska, in Honolulu.” 

“It is devilish! It is incredible! Why, then, do 
vou warn me? He has no reason. He would not 
dare.” 

“ Dare! What would he not dare? Of what is 
he not capable? And he has a reason. He desires to 
take off the millstone from his neck. The time will 
come, sooner or later, when you, being a coward, and 
afraid of the guillotine, will take the authorities into 
your confidence under some stress of danger, pre- 
ferring that he should make Monsieur Finisterre’s 
acquaintance rather than yourself. Parhieu! Does he 
not know you? And as he is in no need of your serv- 
ices any more, why should he not take a good oppor- 
tunity to be rid of the bad rubbish? And so he will. 


90 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


He is not partial to you, as you know. You would 
long ago have come to grief if I had not shielded you. 
But there is an end of that now, Pierre. He has 
money enough — that is, he will have when he and I 
have divided the cash of my divine Vanderveer be- 
tween us. He can go to the ends of the earth and 
commit new crimes in his own way. He will cut off 
the head of history when you and I go to the guillo- 
tine.” 

“ You! No, no! He would never dare touch you. 
Dodo.” 

‘‘ Both of us. On the day after I get Vanderveer’s 
bonds hidden where he can put hands on them and dis- 
appear, we shall both be seized. All the detectives in 
Paris can never find nor overtake him. You know 
that.” 

“ God! I believe you. Dodo. He is capable of it. 
Yes. He has used us well — now he will turn on us.” 

“ Not so! We shall turn on him. I have learned 
the very day when Ruel’s men are to come. And that 
will be the day after my wedding.” 

“ You will actually marry him — do you mean? ” 
Why not? What prevents? ” 

“ FraiK^ois.” 

On the contrary, he counts on it. Did I not marry 
Montford of the Liverpool company? And this mar- 
riage with Vanderveer will be more legal than ” 

She finishes the sentence with a gesture, and looks 
at Goidbeau with a gentle smile. 

“ More legal than yours and mine,” he laughs. 

Say it, why don’t you, Dodo? ” 

“ Ah ! And you think I fear to say anything? Not 
at all. It is merely that one doesn’t like to make one’s 
mouth sick rehearsing disagreeable things. I could 
say it if I chose. Why pot? Bah! The case is sim- 
ple enough, and nobody cares. At least not 1. You 
and I, two idiots, I being just fourteen — idiots, I say — 
especially you — ^pretended to marry. If I had not 
been so imprudent. I might even have loved you. 
Then I should have been the greater idiot, to be 
sure. But the marriage was a child’s farce — though 
you were nineteen. Of the miserable alliance not a 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


9 ‘ 

shred of evidence remains, and as little regret, I am 
sure. Lucky for both of us, Pierre! A devil of a life 
you would have led with a woman like me — if it had 
been possible for a woman like me to live with a man 
like you at all.” 

“ I admit it. Pardieu! I would indeed have found 
a hard life. The husband of Dodo. Think of it! A 
woman with the nerve of a headsman and the daring 
of a brigand. Have I ever regretted that you repu- 
diated the marriage?” 

Pierre laughs coarsely. He is pleased at Dodo’s 
daring even yet. The past is only an episode to be 
forgotten or to be recalled without sentiment. And 
she, the fine blonde belle who has come actually into 
charmed circles of New York society, an adventuress 
and a criminal, has been the wife or the mistress of 
Pierre Goidbeau, the pawnbroker of the Rue Laval. 
And this coarse fellow holds the secret safely, and ad- 
mires her as much as he can. 

“ And since we chose not to be anything more we 
have been friends, Pierre,” she continues, still smiling 
on him. Therefore, when I hear of your danger, and 
learn also that it is my danger, I naturally come to you. 
And you and I together are not going to be beaten by 
the strangler — never, Pierre.” 

“ Ah ! I remember when you were a blue-eyed girl 
in the Rue Laval — you made me give you the di- 
amonds in my showcase,, that the son of Linton the 
rich clothing maker, had pawned in my shop, and you 
brought back a cunning paste in their place. That 
was cunning enough, I say. From that have we not 
been friends, Dodo? I never could dare to be else. 
It fares so ill with your enemies. I consult my own 
interests and they ever say to me that your enmity is 
not to be incurred on any account. Your enemies 
are mine, and it fares ill with them, I say. Do I not 
remember the affair of the Rue Navarin?” 

“ The Rue Navarin has not forgotten it either, 
Pierre,” says Blanche, with a little shiver. “ But why 
speak of it? There were other scenes in Paris more 
agreeable to us both. Not the horrible ones Frangois 
arranged. He was the head — or he was the hand. 


92 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Cursed bloody hand, Pierre! Bah! He kills men 
as skillfully as an Indian thug. But I will not sit still 
while he does as much for Dodo. If it comes to that, 
Pierre Goidbeau, it would be far better to do the kill- 
ing ourselves. Do you not think so? If he were but 
dead! ” she adds, fixing her eyes upon Pierre. 

Pierre makes no answer, but sits for some time si- 
lent. 


CHAPTER XH. 

AH ! YOU LOVE HIM. THAT IS THE SECRET OF 
IT ALL.'' 

“ If he were but dead,” she repeats in the dreamy 
voice that Pierre hears always with a shiver. 

“ That is easy, I should think,” he answers, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. “ Why, then, do you not kill 
him. Dodo? I have often heard him say that it is much 
trouble saved to a man to be dead.” 

“ True. But he is generous and unselfish, Pierre. 
He is willing to take some pains to end the trouble of 
others, especially if they are in his way. But he is 
quite willing to endure the troubles of this mortal life 
himself for an indefinite period yet. I even fancy 
he objects to being killed, even if I were to offer to do 
it myself.” 

“Ungrateful wretch! But in that case why not 
assume. Dodo dear, that you, having studied his wel- 
fare disinterestedly, know better what is best for him 
than he knows himself? He ought to rely on your 
judgment more as to the proper time for dying.” 

Goidbeau laughs at his own wit, while Blanche an- 
swers : 

“ It is easy to be witty on that scale, Godby. But 
you do not know our fine Monsieur d’Avigne. He says 
he was born in Corsica, where a man never dies until 
he has seen the graves of all his enemies. It is quite 
more likely he will kill me. Faugh! What if he 
should get those white hands and hawk fingers on my 
throat — the nice smiling fiend? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


93 


Don’t permit it, Dodo. What are you thinking 
about? What do you propose? If you had not some 
nice plan you would never have come here.” 

“ Soft, Pierre! I merely came to warn you.” 

“Ugh! How damned considerate! Why do you 
lie. Dodo? You came because you want my help.” 

Pierre laughs coarsely, and smiles at his own good 
spirits for a little while. Blanche eyes him, wonder- 
ing if it is time to unfold her plan. 

“ You were not always so sharp, Pierre. New York 
air has whetted you greatly. Very well, I shall help 
you as much as you help me, be sure of that. Van- 
derveer will not believe anything. Will he, Pierre?” 

“ Not a word. He isn’t that kind. Did he believe 
that the Nihilist, Brauna, committed the crime? Not 
he! Neither do I, for that matter.” 

“ Do not speak of her. I hate her. Vanderveer will 
not believe, you say. All right! The first thing is 
to marry him. The next thing ” 

She pauses to give her words the chance to sink into 
the consciousness of Pierre, and then softly continues : 

“ The next thing — is to give Francois over to 
Ruel.” 

“ That would be idiotic. He would merely point 
out to them the place where they might find Dodo, 
of the Rue I.aval, and Pierre, the pawnbroker, also, 
who had the fortune to be associated with her.” 

“Stupid! Very likely he will do that very thing. 
But what if I have a game worth two of that? ” 

Pierre only looks at her in growing wonder. 

“ Yes,” she goes on, still smiling, “ a game worth all 
his games, and to spare. Is not he the one of all 
others who Ruel will desire to seize? I will forestall 
him. I will go to Ruel’s lieutenant, whoever he sends 
— will go in the carriage with Vanderveer, and in ten 
minutes I will convince him that I am Dodo of the 
Rue Laval, and that I have married an American aris- 
tocrat. At the same time I will assure him that to 
arrest me will do no good, as I will prove to the pub- 
lic by indisputable facts that I am no such person as 
Dodo. I shall advise him to save a scene, and do far 
better, by arresting the man they came over here after 


94 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


— one Francois d’Avigne, who may be found at a cer- 
tain number on a certain street. If that should at last 
fail, I shall then present my proofs. You will see.” 

“ What proofs?” 

“Why — are you quite an idiot, Goidbeau? Am I 
not able to make proofs, think you? Stupid! What 
if I show that I am the daughter of — say, a certain 
physician in Chicago. V ery likely I will produce him. 
too. Oh, I will have enough witnesses! I have not 
wasted my time in New York. I am interested to 
avoid the guillotine, am I not? Very well! Since I 
have lived here not a day has passed that I did not 
weave a little web, or a little thread of the web. I 
have made a history reaching back twice as many 
years as I have been here. Is it not easy to recall to 
the memory of careless people things that never oc- 
curred? Let me show you how to make history, 
Pierre. The problem is to get people to remember 
that you were here seven years ago, when, in fact, you 
came here three and a half years ago. What is easier 
than to remind Miss Snodgrass that you met her in the 
year so and so, now over six years, at a certain wa- 
tering place. The chances are she will presently re- 
member it. 

“Half a dozen allusions to the circumstance establish 
it as a fact. Then half a dozen more skillfully worded 
leave on her mind the conviction that it was she and 
not I who recalled the old acquaintance. Why, after 
that, the dear young fool, who has the thing now all 
manufactured in her head, will go into court if need be 
and swear she met me seven years ago in Saratoga, 
and has known me ever since, in all truth and sincerity. 
Another easily recalls, after the same course of tutor- 
ing, that my father from Chicago has several times 
visited me in New York. And so on and so on. As 
a matter of fact, it is beyond doubt in a dozen places at 
least that I have lived in New York since I was a 
child, that my dear papa lives in Chicago, and that 
my name is Blanche Evanston. Would this deceive 
Ruel? Not for a minute. He is familiar with all 
these tricks. But he would know very well that it 
would cost more than I am worth in Paris to unweave 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 95 

my webs. I am as safe from Ruel as if he never ex- 
isted. But not so with the pawnbroker.” 

The wonderful woman pauses. Pierre, drinking in 
this remarkable revelation of her woven lies made for 
a defense, stares at her in new amazement, and can not 
speak. She goes on, gayly: 

“ So you see, Pierre Goidbeau, that I told the truth 
when I assured you that I came to see you for your 
own good and not for mine. Who is the head now, 
think you — Dodo or Franc^ois?” 

“ Dodo — forever, amen.” 

“ You like the little plot, Pierre? ” 

“ Why not? But what if Ruel makes a fuss? 
It will make scandal — and even you can not afford 
that.” 

“ Trust me. I can keep things quiet, I am sure. It 
is only to get by a day or two. Let me but see Franqois 
in irons and Vanderveer in the meshes of matrimony 
— after that they will all have a fine time catching me. 
And Vanderveer will protect his wife, of course. Only, 
I don’t intend it to come to that.” 

“ And what is my part? ” 

“ Patient, patient Goidbeau. In due time! Ruel’s 
man shall never know of your presence in New York 
if you are discreet and do your part. Let me finish. 
I shall show my scheme to Ruel’s man with a few of 
VanderveePs bonds for arguments, and offer to give 
him d’Avigne for satisfaction, on condition he does 
not listen to anything about Dodo of the Rue Laval. 
It will be easy for him to declare that he has reliable 
information that Dodo and Pierre Goidbeau are both 
dead.” 

“ And I?” 

“ You are to help entrap d'Avigne. 

He is a devil. He will escape. Then what will 
my life be worth? He will find means to repay us 
both.” 

“ Perhaps you have a better scheme. Go to him, 
then, and tell him my intentions. Perhaps he will 
make better terms with you. Perhaps you will fare 
better with the strangler than with me. Go! ” 

Never! I woiild rather give myself over to 


96 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Ruel at once. It is bad to have him for an enemy — 
but to have you — God save me from that! I am with 
you, Dodo. Let us be rid of the strangler — forever.” 

” Good! You are as wise as I believed. As for 
whatever he may do, I care not. I stake all on this 
throw. If you are not ready to risk too, don’t begin. 
The time has come to beat him if we can. If he beats 
us, then it is our fault.” 

” Since when did you abandon Francois? ” 

” Since I began to suspect that he has destined me 
to the acquaintance of M. Finisterre. Besides ” 

She smiles and taps her foot on the floor. 

” Well?” 

” Monsieur Vanderveer is handsome, do you not 
think so, Pierre? ” 

” I prefer his beauty to Francois’.” 

“ Bah! d’Avigne is a beast beside him. And he is 
rich, romantic, and aristocratic besides, Pierre. You 
hear that?” 

” Certainly. I approve your choice. Dodo. I have 
said so before.” 

“ Pierre, do you remember the day when I drove 
you out of the pawnshop and swore that I hated you? ” 

” Very well indeed. Have I not still the marks of 
your nails where you wounded my cheek — you scratch- 
ing cat! ” 

“ And when I said that, you replied that you had 
feared that I loved you, and that you were mightily 
relieved to know that I only hated you.” 

‘‘ Did I say that? I must then have been wise even 
in my youth,” laughs Pierre, half pleased to recall the 
incident. 

“ And I said that I could hate very well, as you 
should find — I was in a great passion then — but as for 
love, it was only for fools. You remember that?” 

“ Indeed I do. And you have lived up to it, too. 
It is a pity, because you are beautiful. But you have 
lived up to it.” 

“ But now, Pierre ” 

Pierre stares again and waits. 

But now I have entirely changed my mind. Love 
is better than hate.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


97 


“ What do you mean? Oh! I see it all. Par dim! 
So that is the cause for betraying Monsieur d’Avigne. 
So that is the reason for the scheme. You love Van- 
derveer. You love him! That is the secret of it all. 
I see! ” 

She drops her eyes before Goidbeau’s searching 
glance and smiles, while there floats before her the 
memory of his divine face, and in her ears she hears 
the tones of his loved voice. She seems all a woman 
now, as Goidbeau looks at her in new amazement. 

“ Well, why not? ” she resumes, rousing again from 
her little dream, and tossing her head airily. “ Who 
can prevent? As I am to marry him it is the proper 
thing is it not? ” 

Proper — but incredible. I will help you to de- 
fend the affection from the blight of Frangois. He 
would be too jealous to let you live, I am sure. But 
your scheme grows on me. It is the thing to do. 
And you have the nerve to do it — the motive, too, I 
see. Afterward — well, what of me, afterward?” 

“ Oh ! I have planned that too. If you go to South 
America and stay there I shall never travel that way. 
If you have money, which I will try to see you do not 
lack, you will find, I am sure, that the ladies of the 
tropics are charming beyond compare, and you may 
even follow my example — and fall in love.” 

'' With money one can live without the love,” says 
Pierre, dryly. 

‘‘ Suit yourself. I promise you I will never be so 
curious as to inquire. That program will please you 
better, T am sure, than Finisterre’s guillotine.” 

“ By far. Dodo, by far! It is excellent! ” 

“ And as for me, I am sure I can bury history — 
even memory — in the arms of Vanderveer.” 


98 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

“ A MAN IS WATCHING THIS HOUSE.” 

On that memorable night at Graystone when God- 
by’s greed had led him to accept Dimitri Alvaroff’s 
money and submit to being bound in his chair, his two 
prisoners stole cautiously out into the night, and, as- 
sisted by Vanderveer and Benonski, succeeded in 
boarding the little yacht which was in waiting for them. 
It was then deemed wiser for Harris and the Russian 
to return to the house to delay as long as possible the 
discovery of the flight. 

Alvaroff being not only a very powerful but skilled 
sailor, they crossed to the point they had planned to 
make, not without great difficulty, however, as the 
storm had increased in its fury as the night wore on. 
Their one hope was to reach the house of a friend 
upon whom they could depend for further aid. To do 
this they must walk nearly a mile, and fearing to be im- 
peded by its weight, Brauna left her cloak in the little 
craft, which her father moored to a stake driven in the 
muddy bottom of the inlet. The strong east wind 
veering to westward swept the yacht from its mooring, 
and, with the help of a strong ebb tide, it was soon 
carried out to sea. But with the returning tide and 
an onshore wind, the beached wreck told its own tale 
to a shocked and horrified world. 

Struggling through the storm the wanderers at 
length reached the refuge they sought, where they 
found willing hands and true hearts to succor them 
in their distress. 

A little rest, so sorely needed, and then on again, 
to elude their enemies, whom they believed to be 
searching for them, was the plan of Alvaroff and his 
persecuted daughter. But the flight and danger of 
that dreadful night, and of the few days following, told 
upon Brauna. Not daring to take to the rail, nor to 
any public conveyance, they travel only by night, 
sometimes in a little boat, creeping with the wind or 
against it, through the little bays and inlets that skirt 
Long Island nearly its entire length, sometimes over 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


99 


the sandy roads, driven in a rude cart or farm wagon 
by some farmer or villager whom they hire to forward 
them on their journey. 

The end of this kind of traveling came when Brauna, 
with fever burning in her face and veins, was obliged to 
stop. But they were a hundred miles from New York, 
and in a very obscure fishing hamlet by the water side 
reached by no railway and five miles from a telegraph 
line. Except for a few summer dwellers, or a sports- 
man with his gun, it would have been about as iso- 
lated from civilization as a shore in Alaska. 

Here Alvaroff succeeded in finding a fisherman’s 
family, having a little white cottage separated from 
the main portion of the straggling village, who were 
willing, in consideration of the generous fee offered, 
to take them in and give them shelter and entertain- 
ment for the few days they expected to remain. He 
represented that they were seeking a lonely resort pur- 
posely to escape the crowded watering-places, and had 
by intention omitted to bring along more than the 
merest necessaries. Marcus the fisherman, and his 
wife, were simple and poor. When, after a few days, 
Brauna grew worse, her father began to be alarmed 
about her, but knowing something of medicine him- 
self, and there being in the village the usual drug store, 
to which he could resort for remedies, he felt sure it 
was safer not to call in the local Esculapius, but for 
many days, almost sleepless, and with the anxiety of a 
great fear, Alvaroff cared for her while she hovered 
on the verge of death. 

He was not surprised that no answer came from 
the letters Brauna wrote to Blanche and Vanderveer. 
He appreciated the fact that their friends would be 
unwilling to do anything that would endanger their 
safety. So they remained in entire ignorance of the 
fact that they were believed to have been drowned. 

Alvaroff several times half resolved to communicate 
with Benonski, but on reflection decided that it might 
not be safe, as the Russian would naturally be 
watched. If he knew their whereabouts and should 
imprudently attempt to come to them it might only 
betray their hiding-place. “ If Brauna recovers we 


100 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


will flee to safer distances/’ he thinks, “ where it will 
be more difficult to reach us, and then it will be time 
to communicate with Benonski.” 

Thus it happens that save the two letters which 
Blanche received, one for herself and one for Vander- 
veer inclosed, the fugitives remain in their safer silence 
as the weeks pass on. 

But this solitude is at length penetrated and un- 
veiled by one of those unfortunate accidents that are 
ever occurring in this strange world. 

Ferrand Merki, or the man who has proved himself 
to be Ferrand Merki to the satisfaction of Count 
St. Mart Golfi, has attached to himself as companion 
in adventure a fellow named Valond. 

Valond, who is necessary to Merki, shares with him 
the knowledge of the arrest and flight pf the fugitives. 
He also knows the story of the murder of which the 
fair girl is accused. He has but lately arrived with 
his friend and master Ferrand Merki, in New York, 
and knows little of the countrj^ 

But when about the middle of September the weath- 
er in the city became very oppressive, and life grew 
dull to Valond, he asked permission to take a little 
out-of-door exercise with his rod and gun. Now it 
was a very little thing that the clerk at the hotel where 
Merki was staying should suggest Long Island as a 
very promising place for shore birds, and for various 
kinds of ducks. It was also a small matter that he 
happened to have an uncle living in the very same little 
hamlet where Brauna and her father had been de- 
tained. But it is upon slight things like this the 
dramas and tragedies of this life so often turn. 

Valond borrowed the clerk’s gun, and, following his 
directions, started off for the shore and the sands. His 
first day was nearly done, and a most discouraging 
one it had been, too, until, as he was returning, tired 
and cross just at dusk, to his delight and astonish- 
ment a large flock of black ducks came sweeping 
right over the village, and directly toward him, mak- 
ing for the great marsh where he had been skirmish- 
ing for hours for a single shot. He crouched in the 
opportune beach grass, and succeeded in bringing 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


101 


down a duck with each barrel as they whirled by. 
The last one fell almost in the dooryard of a little 
white cottage near which he was. The owner of the 
cottage came out quickly at the noise of the gun and 
chided him soundly for disturbing the sick young 
lady in the house, whose life just now depended 
upon being kept perfectly quiet. Of course Valond 
apologized and walked away, hardly remembering at 
the moment that Marcus was volubly telling him that 
the sick young lady and her father were his guests 
from New York, and that they had been here de- 
tained by sickness for now six weeks or more. 

Yet strange is the construction and operation of 
the human mind! No sooner was Valond beyond the 
view of Marcus than he stopped suddenly in the road, 
smitten motionless by a thought. 

“It might be,” says Valond, to himself. “It is 
improbable, of course, but as I am here I may as well 
ii estigate. He insists that they are dead, and he 
means to have the cash. He said a gentleman and 
his daughter. What else did he say? I remember 
it! He gabbled about his being a doctor. Now! 
Alvaroff figured as a doctor while he lived in New 
York. It grows interesting. If I should prove that 
I am right, then Merki will owe me one. It is im- 
probable — but it is no harm to investigate.” 

That night Valond could not sleep. The thought 
dropped by fisherman Marcus haunted him. It would 
give him no peace. Even his ducks were driven from 
his mind. 

Accordingly in the morning Valond began inquir- 
ies. He was cautious and made his researches skill- 
fully. The morning had not ended before he found 
a clue that aggravated his desires. The local phy- 
sician, who had heard that there was a sick young 
woman at fisherman Marcus’s house, could not forgive 
the slight that he had not been called in on the case. 
He had slyly hinted that people who doctored them- 
selves always had good reason for not being too 
public in their movements. This was enough, when 
it had been several times repeated, to cause some gos- 
sip by the village wiseacres and fools. Among them 


102 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY* 


he managed to find the man who had brought the fu- 
gitives in his farm wagon from a shore town across the 
neck to this place. He remembered the date very 
well. He also did not neglect to say to Valond that 
the man was white-haired and of aristocratic appear- 
ance, and that the young lady was very beautiful. 

Valond had calculated the time, and knew that the 
arrival of the strangers at the house of fisherman Mar- 
cus made it yet more probable that they might be 
none other than Alvaroff and his daughter. The de- 
scription also corresponded with his information. He 
followed up the matter slyly all day, talking at the post- 
office and the grocery store and wherever he might, 
with people whom he met. Before night the scent 
was hot, and he had made up his mind definitely that 
he had accidentally run down the game. He there- 
fore took to watching the white cottage, and for the 
next three days attended to that matter so well that 
he had managed even to say “ Good evening ” to Al- 
varoff, and get a good look at him. Then seeing no 
other way to be certain, since he had never before 
seen the gentleman, Valond wrote a little note to 
Merki, asking him to send to his help a certain Ruoff. 
Ruoff was one of the servants who seized the sup- 
posed murderess as she stood over the slain man, sti- 
letto in hand. Ruoff came, not knowing why he had 
been sent for. Merki himself had only guessed, be- 
cause Valond was sharp enough not to reveal his un- 
finished suspicions. Merki only knew by Valond’s 
letter that he had some important reason for sending. 

Ruoff, with almost ghoulish delight, heard ValonU’s 
account, and before he had been in the place two days, 
managed to get a sight of Alvaroff. It was enough. 
The identification was absolute. Ruoff was for se- 
curing a local posse and seizing the game immediately. 
Not so Valond. He would have no such bungling 
with his master’s business. He did not know what 
reasons his master might have for haste or for delay. 
He might not be ready. To act independently of Merki 
might ruin everything. He therefore sends Ruoff 
back to New York with a letter, and keeps his mouth 
tightly closed by a threat of Merki’s anger. He him- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


103 


self remains. He resolves that Alvaroff shall not get 
out of his sight until he knows the will of Merki in 
the matter, and accordingly watches the cottage by 
day and night to be sure they do not give him the 
slip. 

But Valond, who is of a nervous terperament and 
shortsighted — as most cunning people are who are 
no more than cunning — now overdoes his mission. 
He does not know that he is watching a brainy and 
skillful man, who is far more than his match in all 
the strategics of a contest of wits. He has not kept 
this thing up three days before Alvaroff knows that 
the house is watched. His caution has been sharp- 
ened by his experience, and when one night he sees 
from his window in the faint moonlight a dark figure 
stealing away into a clump of scrubby oaks near the 
house he began watching himself. Before long he 
has seen this figure a half dozen times, and has iden- 
tified it with the sportsman of whom Marcus has spok- 
en on several occasions. This discovery could not 
long be concealed from Brauna. She sees it almost 
immediately, in spite of his attempts at self-posses- 
sion. 

“ What is it, dear father? ” she asks him suddenly 
one day, from her couch. 

It is nothing, Brauna. A passing cloud. I only 
fancied vou are not as well to-day. Am I right, 
dear?” ‘ 

She smiles at him her soft and loving smile and an- 
swers : 

I see you are deceiving me. But I am better. If 
we are followed again I can bear to hear it. Tell 
me. 

Her quick intuitions had penetrated the truth with- 
out being told, and her father’s silence answered the 
question. 

“ What have you seen then, papa? Is it very im- 
minent? ” 

“ A man watching this house, dear. But there is 
only one. Nothing will happen until there are more. 
By some fatal misfortune I fear we have been discov- 
ered. But it must not trouble you, dear. I will pro- 
tect you.” 


104 


DOUULK JEOPARDY. 


She was pallid with her long sickness, but her soul 
was strong even yet. Her father knew that she 
would bear all without failing. Her calmness reas- 
sured him. But Alvaroff made all his preparations 
against the danger that he savv^ impending. Brauna 
was slowly recovering, and was able now to sit in 
the sunshine a little indoors. Alvaroff, seeing that he 
must have help, resolved to use Marcus. He studied 
out a method and then set it going. Marcus was 
simple-minded, like other men of his calling, but 
liked money well enough. Alvaroff pretended to take 
him into confidence. He revealed to him with a great 
deal of secrecy in his manner that certain irregulari- 
ties in his accounts with a certain bank made it dis- 
agreeable for him to go back to New York until he 
received a sum of money from his lands in Pennsyl- 
vania. He had reason to think that the bank would 
have him arrested. If he could keep out of their way 
a month longer he could settle up honorably. He 
would make it worth Marcus’s while to help him. He 
revealed to Marcus that one of the bank detectives 
was watching the house, and soon proved it to him by 
ocular demonstration. The weeks in the house of 
Marcus had endeared both Alvaroff and his daugh- 
ter to the affections of the fisherman and his wife. 
Alvaroff represented that his arrest now would per- 
haps kill Brauna. He re-enforced his arguments lib- 
erally with cash. Fisherman Marcus agreed to se- 
cure, very secretly and cautiously, a small sailboat 
belonging to a neighbor, and to stock it with the 
necessary things for a trip across the Sound to the 
Rhode Island shore. Meanwhile he is to watch close- 
ly for the possible arrival of strangers in the village. 

Alvaroff believes that there is as yet but one person 
engaged in watching the house. He infers that this 
means danger only if they attempt to move. So long 
as they show no alarm they are not to be seized at 
present. But the blow may fall at any moment. He 
intends to take no chances of immediate pursuit. He 
has learned Valond’s habits and sets his snare for him. 
Thinking himself very sly, Valond has no idea that he 
has been discovered, and is waiting quietly for Merki 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


to act. M^Fi has replied to his letter immediately, 
commending his shrewdness in making the discovery 
and his diplomacy in waiting for orders, and promis- 
ing to effect the recapture of the fugitives as soon as 
he can finish certain negotiations with Golfi. He di- 
rects Valond to keep a close watch and inform him 
of everything instantly. 

But, lurking about the fisherman’s house, one night 
he suddenly comes to grief. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

IT IS TIME TO BE RID OF THE SPY.” 

Alvaroff calculated his movements so carefully that 
his success was immediate. He concealed himself 
under the shadows of a clump of scrub oaks near the 
place which he had located as the lurking ground of 
Valond. It was Valond’s cue to make an inspection 
of the premises every night, to discover and forestall 
any preparations for a removal. He was getting a 
little tired of these vigils, and thought Merki was too 
slow in acting. True, he assures Merki by daily let- 
ters that the game is safe, and that there is no danger 
of immediate action, as the' girl is too weak to be re- 
moved. As a matter of fact, Alvaroff, on discover- 
ing that the house is being watched, gives it out 
through Marcus that his daughter is worse and not 
likely to recover, hoping that this would delay his 
enemies. This report was faithfully repeated in the 
letters of Valond, and Merki was taking more time 
than he otherwise would, as a consequence. He 
thought, if Brauna died, his way would be even yet 
easier. 

Valond, coming to his nightly inspection, which he 
had been directed to make without failure by Merki, 
had hardly settled in his hiding place to wait for the 
lights to go out before beginning his customary prowl- 
ing tour around the premises, when he suddenly heard 
a slight sound behind him, and before he could 


DOUBLE JEOEARDY. 


io6 

breathe, was hurled violently to the sands. Before he 
could begin to understand what had befallen him, his 
head was buried in a heavy shawl, and Alvaroff was 
binding him fast, in spite of his struggles, in cords 
that soon disabled him from all harm. Then, jerking 
the fellow to his feet and removing the shawl, Alvaroff 
remarked, sternly: 

“ There, my man, perhaps you will now tell me 
why you are lurking about here so much. There are 
safer places for you.” 

Valond is quick-witted, and rapidly recovers his self- 
possession. He is not deceived by Alvaroff’s ques- 
tion. After getting his breath a little he says, with a 
short laugh, as if he cared nothing about the matter: 

“ Why, what harm have I done? I am merely a 
gunner. Several times I have seen an owl on that hay- 
stack after nightfall. I thought I would try to get him 
for a specimen. Why do you attack me thus? I will 
complain of you.” 

” It is useless for you to lie. You write the progress 
of your vigils daily to New York. The letters are di- 
rected to Michael Ruoff. Michael Ruoff is the crea- 
ture who once belonged to Merki. That means that 
you are in the employ of my enemies. You know me, 
and are here to give the signal when I am to be 
seized. You will never give that signal. Come along 
with me and I will show you why.” 

He pulls Valond along into the house, explaining to 
his daughter in a few words the capture of the spy. 

Brauna, quiet, beautiful as an angel in her coming 
health, and almost able again to move with her ac- 
customed spirits, rises and signifies that she is ready 
to begin their new flight. Marcus, with his boat, is 
waiting at a little inlet below the house to take them 
to the larger craft in readiness. 

“ And I have decided to take you along, you hound,” 
says Alvaroff, turning to Valond. “I intend to see 
to it that you are put beyond the chance of betraying 
us as you intended. Go before me as we walk, and’ 
if you do not walk as I direct, I will regulate your 
movements with this.” 

Valond saw a little revolver gleam in his captor’s 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


107 


hand. He knew something of this man’s history, and 
has learned more of his activity since nightfall, 
as well as of the strength of his arms. The revolver 
was not to be argued with, and he placed himself in 
front of Alvaroff, his hands still bound, ready for the 
walk. 

He saw no chance to escape on the way, and in ten 
minutes, with Marcus at the oars, they were gliding 
out of the inlet. In ten more they were on board the 
sailboat. Marcus had already hoisted the sail, and 
had only to raise his hedge anchor, and haul taut the 
main sheet, and the wind swept them swiftly and 
smoothly out into the rougher waters of the Sound. 

Valond was silent, wondering what they would do 
with him. He thought it was sharp of Alvaroff to 
abduct him and take him along, thus preventing him 
from giving the alarm in New York. But unless he 
was killed outright he did not see how they were to 
deal with him so as to save that possibility even now. 
But his speculations were ended after they had sailed 
an hour. 

“ Bring her up into the wind and lie to for a little,” 
says Alvaroff to Marcus. Then in a louder tone he 
adds: “ It is time to be rid of the spy.” 

V^alond moves uneasily in his seat. “ To be rid of 
the spy!” Does that mean something horrible? 
Will this stern man secure himself from all chance of 
Valond’s reports by a desperate deed? 

“ Tell me, now, miserable wretch, why I should 
not silence your tongue as we end the life of a kitten 
in a sack — tell me? ” 

Valond’s teeth chattered in the cool night, not from 
cold entirely, as he managed to answer, in a frightened 
tone: 

“ You mean to murder me? Don’t do that now. I 
only obey my orders.” 

“Orders! That is what I wish to know. Whose 
orders? Before I leave you here forever in this wash 
of the sea, I command you to tell me who it is that, 
after seven years, has undertaken to hunt down my 
daughter for a crime which she did not commit. Tell 
me.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


loS 

“ I will. But not until you promise to let me go. I 
don’t fancy being drowned. I won’t speak until you 

yy 

“ Give me the rope, Marcus,” says Alvaroff, in a 
sharp, stern voice. “ It is useless to dally with a man 
who is mean enough to serve as a spy. The world 
is well rid of such vermin. I will tie his feet also. 
Meanwhile he may reflect that it were better to die 
after having done a good deed by informing me of 
that which I wish to know. Are you going to 
speak? ” 

“ Not if you intend to drown me,” says Valond dog- 
gedly, seeing but this one frail chance of escaping 
with his life. “ If you spare my life I will tell all I 
know. I will also promise not to go back to those 
who sent me here.” 

“ Stupid wretch ! Are you then so idiotic as to sup- 
pose that I could rely on a promise from such as you. 
But tell me what I ask, and we will at least let you 
live until you reach shore. After that we will con- 
sider it.” 

“ Very well, then. It is Golfi.” 

“ Golfi. Ah! He has escaped? He has re- 
turned? ” 

” Returned, and is in New York. He commands 
the American department of the Moscow League.” 

“ That may be. But why does he hate me? Why 
should he follow me, or her? ” 

“ It is you he strikes at. You should know why.” 

“I? I know nothing. Golfi was sent with the 
others to Siberia. I heard he was knouted and died 
under that dreadful punishment.” 

“ He was knouted — he did not die. He hates you, 
and will have your life. That is the truth. He has 
found out about the murder, so he strikes you first 
through her.” 

Valond jerks his head in the direction of the dark, 
cloaked figure in the stern who was not near enough to 
hear this conversation above the noise of the dashing 
waves. 

“ I know not what it means in the least. Who are 
you, then, and what is your relation to Golfi — and why 
does Golfi follow us? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


109 

“ Because you betrayed the patriots at the Bouski 
Plaza into the hands of the Czar’s officers. Count St. 
Mart Golfi suffered in Siberia. His back is ridged 
with the marks of the knout until he dies. You are 
the cause.” 

“ As God hears me, it is a lie! I myself was warned 
and fled just in time to escape the Czar’s minions. I 
betray? I, who gave everything for the cause of the 
patriots — until the plot failed! Not so. Golfi is de- 
ceived. I have my own idea who was the man that 
gave the information to Russia. But it was not Al- 
varoff. I see it all. So this is the secret of the pur- 
suit! I am glad to know it. I shall now know the 
proper course to take. Are you a Nihilist, then — one 
of Golfi’s men?” 

Valond was not frightened enough to lead him to 
tell the truth. He knows something of the situation 
— enough, at least, to be sure that Merki would not 
be pleased to have the fact that he was still living re- 
vealed to Alvaroff, as yet. Valond knew more than 
this, and he shaped his lies according to his knowl- 
edge. He reflected a moment and then replied: 

“ Yes. Why else should I be here? Golfi will 
hunt you down if he can, be sure of that.” 

“ That is to be seen. He may repent. He may dis- 
cover that it was some other to whom he owes the 
misfortunes of Siberia.” 

“ But as I have told you what you wish to know, 
I will thank you to take me ashore. I promise not 
to return to Golfi. I am not obliged to.” 

‘‘ I have some idea you will not find it pleasant. 
He will not easily overlook this episode in your career, 
will he? ” 

Valond caught at this hint and said, very earnestly: 

“ That is the very thing. I don’t fancy being dis- 
ciplined for a slip that I could not help.” 

“ Do whatever you like. Marcus, bring the tender 
alongside.” Then, turning to Valond, his captor 
adds, grimly: ‘‘I am about to set you adrift in this 
boat. It is five miles at least to either shore. You 
will not get at either the telegraph or the train be- 
fore morning. If you think with that start it will be 


I lO 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


easy for Golfi, or any other, to find us, keep ycur 
own opinion, and compare it with the result. I 
bid you a safe row to the shore.” 

He motions Valond to the little boat, and that 
gentleman did not stay on the order of his going, but 
at once clambered into it and was lost to sight in five 
minutes, as the sailboat took the wind again and kept 
on her way across the Sound. 

Valond, left in his boat, allowed her to drift in the 
wind. He sat in a daze for some time, hardly able to 
convince himself that he was awake. Suddenly he 
remembers Merki. He does not feel in haste to re- 
port his adventure. Then he bent to the oars, going 
the easiest way, and landed after daylight on a 
rocky point of the Connecticut shore. He stood 
up for a moment and watched the boat drift away into 
the water. 

“ It is a good idea,” he says to himself. “ If I do 
not reappear Merki may think I have been destroyed 
by his enemy. The boat will be found by some- 
body. As it belongs on the other side, and as I shall 
have disappeared, it will sooner or later be thought 
over there that I am drowned. I will give Merki the 
slip until it is convenient to turn up again. I can in- 
vent some lies for him if I ever find it convenient to 
make his acquaintance again.” 


CHAPTER XV. 

'' HE LOVED YOU, YOU LOVED HIM.” 

Some four months after the misfortune which befel 
Valond, Benonski was made nearly wild with joy by 
receiving through the mails this brief message: 

“Come to.6oi Eighty-second Street. Caution.” 

He knows the writing. It is his master’s, and it is 
in the cipher of the Moscow League. Benonski had 
nearly abandoned his hope that they were alive after 
these months of waiting. At best he had felt but a 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Ill 


faint, stubborn hope that they had escaped the waves 
of the ocean and might be somewhere in hiding. But 
when the weeks went by and he heard nothing, hope 
gradually faded, and he mourned them as lost to him 
forever. Now Benonski, being alone, swings his 
arms about and gives a shout of joy. Then, without 
waiting for anything, he starts off for the designated 
street, being very careful, however, that no one ob- 
serves him going. For the Russian had been aware 
that for a time he had been closely watched; but 
of late nothing of the kind had occurred. 

At length he reaches the house and, with anxious 
and turbulent feelings, rings the bell. In a minute 
more he stands in their presence. Faithful devotee! 
He can not restrain himself, and weeps tears of joy 
on seeing them. 

“Oh! And how beautiful you grow,” he says to 
Brauna, devouring her with his eyes. “ It is payment 
for all my grief to know that you live — both of you. 
But why do you come here? It is not safe. They 
will find you. Surely you will go away at once 
again. And I will go with you. The devils! But 
we will never again get in their clutches. So! You 
were not drowned, then? ” 

“ Drowned! ” 

“Drowned. Yes; on the yacht. Have you not 
heard, then? Did you not know that we all believed' 
you at the bottom of the sea? Oh! And did it not 
well nigh break the heart of us all? It is strange that 
— no, on the whole how should you know? But tell 
me, then, how the yacht got to sea — and your cloak. 
Miss Brauna?” 

Then Benonski tells them of the wrecked yacht 
and the finding of Brauna’s cloak, and how they had 
been given up as lost at sea. 

“ But you have been informed? Brauna wrote. Did 
not Mr. Vanderveer tell you?” 

“ Mr. Vanderveer? Not a word. On the con- 
trary, he believes you dead. He Well, I have not 

seen him in some time.” 

There is a slight chill in Benonski’s tone that 
Brauna does not fail to catch, and she pales a little. 


I I 2 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


She looks into his face as she asks in a low tone, re- 
pressing the tumult arising in her soul: 

“ Do you mean that Mr. Vanderveer did not re- 
ceieve my letter? Are you quite sure? ” 

“ No; I have not seen him lately, as I say. But if 
he had received news that you are living, he would not 
have kept it from me — unless ” 

“Well, Benonski?” 

Benonski hangs his head and does not speak. 

Brauna sighs. She is proud, and does not wish even 
before this trusted friend and servant to show her heart 
too plainly. She sits down, with a little look of terror 
on her face. What does it mean? Vanderveer thinks 
her dead. Or knowing that she still lives he makes 
no sign. What does it mean? It never for a moment 
occurs to her that dear Blanche could fail her. 

“ The truth is, Benonski, that Brauna wrote to him 
as soon as we were well in secure hiding. We hardly 
expected he would risk our safety by answering, or 
by attempting to find us. But that he has not con- 
fided in you — that he has not professed to know that 
we live ” 

“ I can not say that master. He went back into so- 
ciety soon and I have not seen him. That is all. Per- 
haps he knows very well. But that you will soon 
learn, as I shall see to it that he knows that you are 
here — or that he is informed of your whereabouts 
wherever you go. But perhaps you will tell me your 
plans.” 

“ Do not inform Mr. Vanderveer at present,” says 
Brauna. “ First ascertain if he received the letter. Be- 
nonski, I trust you, do I not? ” 

“ If I thought you did not then would life be 
of no more value to me,” replies Benonski, bowing 
very low, and sighing as if the thought grieved him. 

“ Then I may speak plainly on a delicate subject 
to you. You are more than a servant, a mere employee 
— you are a friend. You know our misfortunes, and 
you do not believe that I am justly accused.” 

“ On the contrary, I have the best of reasons for 
thinking that you are a martyr of circumstances. You 
may trust me.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


1^3 


You are not blind to that which goes on about 
you, Benonski. You know the — the relation between 
Mr. Vanderveer and myself.” 

“ Yes. He loved you. You loved him. Yes.” 

“ And if he no longer loves me — can you find that 
out too — before you open to him our present condi- 
tion. If he received the letter — you can ascertain that, 
can you not?” 

“ Without doubt. I will know before three days 
go by.” 

“ And how he feels toward me. Understand I do 
not wish to make any approaches toward — toward re- 
newing our acquaintance if he has ceased to care. 
But if he failed to get the letter then he, like you, may 
still believe that we were drowned. You see the sit- 
uation, Benonski.” 

Benonski drops his eyes. There is something he 
has not told. 

“ Tell me all you know,” says Brauna, with a smile, 
and in a firm voice. 

“ Nothing at all,” says Benonski. “ I have only 
heard just once, and quite by chance, that Vanderveer 
is much sought after and that he is liable to fall a 
victim to some creature or other. But it is rumor, 
my dear lady.” 

‘‘ Is that all?” 

“ All, on my word. There is nothing more definite. 
I have taken no pains to follow him up. I think a 
man who is so soon off with ” 

“ Stop, Benonski ! I will hear no evil of him — 
neither now or at any time.” 

She flushes, and her eyes gleam with loyal resent- 
ment. Benonski is wise enough not to attempt to 
finish his criticism. 

Alvaroff then explains in detail the escape in the 
yacht and their experiences in the fisherman’s cot- 
tage. Benonski measures the situation in the light 
of this narration, and again asks anxiously: 

But what will you do now? New York is not 
safe.” 

“ On the contrary, if we are discreet. New York 
may be the safest place there is,” replies Alvaroff 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


II4 

“ My enemies will hardly look for us here. We can 
keep indoors, and go out only in disguise or at night. 
I hope to break down this pursuit if I can have a lit- 
tle time. If this man Golfi can be convinced that it 
was not I who betrayed the patriots seven years ago 
he will not follow us. I think that may be accom- 
plished. It is to this we are now to bend our en- 
ergies.” 

“ And remain here? ” 

“Yes; if you are discreet, you will be able to aid 
us and still not endanger us. Besides, both my 
daughter and myself have decided that we will flee 
no more. Life is too poor as fugitives and suspects 
to be worth keeping. If we are to be hunted to 
death by our enemies we will defy them when the time 
comes that we must, and do the best we can.” 

“ In heaven’s name! I adjure you do not think of 
such a course. They will surely kill you both. Stay 
here if you think it best — but do not let them seize 
you again. Be ready at any moment to disappear. 
They can not always follow. If life is not valuable 
here go to other lands — far beyond the pursuit of this 
Golfi — if it is he who follows you.” 

“ We have decided,” Alvarofl replies, firmly. “ Wc 
will never flee again. We will avoid the enemy as 
long as we can — and you, Benonski, shall help us. 
Meanwhile, we will attend to the task of drawing his 
fangs. Meantime, you can send a note to Mr. Van- 
derveer, asking him where you can see him, as you 
have some important information to communicate.” 

Thus it happens that Godby, who is on the watch 
like a cat over Vanderveers’ mail, and who by this time 
is sufficiently in the confidence of the careless fellow to 
be permitted to open all business correspondence, 
about three days before the appointed wedding day 
comes upon Benonski’s note. 

He remembers the name instantly, and at once 
scenting danger, takes the letter to Miss Evanston 
without delay. 

“ It means danger, Pierre,” she says, with a fierce 
look at him. “ Come! If this Benonski is not an- 
swered at once he will look Vanderveer up. He has 
found out that they are alive,” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


II5 

“ Exactly/’ assents Pierre. “ My head for it, this 
Benonski has had word from them. Just three days 
too early, Dodo dear.” 

“ Yes. Three days! ” she repeats, with a gentle 
smile. “ Three days, Pierre! How I pray that noth- 
ing will postpone the happy day,” she sighs, then, 
after a moment’s reflection, demands: 

” You can answer letters for Vanderveer as well as 
read them, I suppose.” 

“ The devil! You mean I am to answer Benonski’s 
letter? ” 

“ Certainly. Use the typewriter. Sign his name 
the best you can. This Benonski knows nothing of 
Vanderveer’s chirography, of course. It is not neces- 
sary to be an expert in this case.” 

” True, Dodo. What shall I write? ” 

“ Say that important business will prevent him from 
attending to Benonski’s matter before Thursday. 
Make an appointment for Thursday noon.” 

“ Capital. But to guard against accidents. Sup- 
pose he is not satisfied? ” 

” It is worth considering. He might be impatient 
and hunt Vanderveer out. That would not be to our 
liking. Let me think. Have you any comrades 
whom you can trust with a matter — say fellows who 
will do a thing and not ask disagreeable questions?” 

Blanche looks at him with her bland smile, which 
tells him she has some fine plot in her pretty head. 

“ Perhaps. There are Riggs and Levi. You know 
them.” 

“ Very well. Give them twenty dollars apiece, and 
tell them there is as much more where that comes from 
when they are through. Then instruct them.” 

'' After you, Dodo. Tell me the plan.” 

“ Write the Russian that Vanderveer is about to go 
to — say any place fifty miles out — Connecticut or 
New Jersey. Make an appointment with Benonski 
there. Say that he will be gone until Thursday, but 
that he is so curious to know the meaning of Be- 
nonski’s note that he will gladly pay the expense if 
he will only go and meet him there. When he arrives 
Riggs and Levi will be there. They will have a note 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


1 16 

from Vanderveer which you will furnish them. He 
will get into a carriage with them to be taken where 
Vanderveer is. He will be detained. On Thursday or 
Friday he will get away, and return to New York, 
wondering why he has been dealt with in that abrupt 
manner. His wonder will be a trifle late.” 

‘‘ Excellent! It shall be done! Give me the whole 
detail.” 

Blanche smiles, and then for an hour she drills 
Pierre. Every detail of the plot is gone over, and 
when Pierre at last goes to his lodgings he has a good 
deal of confidence that this new danger is removed, or 
at least effectually provided against. 

The next morning Benonski receives a cordial little 
note signed “ Vanderveer,” informing him that the 
writer is obliged to take train for a little village be- 
low Perth Amboy, and urging him to follow at once 
to relieve his anxiety that has been awakened by Be- 
nonski’s note. “ I feel,” the letter reads, “ that it must 
be something about the lost ones. Come without delay 
if possible. I will arrange to have some one at the sta- 
tion to meet you.” 

Elated at receiving this note, the Russian loses no 
time, managing to catch the next train. 

On this same morning a lovely, sad woman, look- 
ing over the morning papers with her father, suddenly 
grows pallid and drops the sheet from her hand with 
a cry of pain. Quickly picking up the journal, to 
which she points with a growing anguish in her face, 
AlvarofI reads: 

“ The wedding of Mr. Harris Vanderveer with Miss 
Blanche Evanston, daughter of Dr. Paul Evanston, of 
Chicago, is announced to occur at St. John’s Church, 
Wednesday, at noon.” 

“He has deserted me,” she moans, covering her face 
with her han.ds, as she sinks into her father’s arms. 


Double jeopardy. 
CHAPTER XVL 




‘'JAMES SMITH, AT YOUR SERVICE, SIR.” 

Benonski, in his eagerness to reach Vanderveer, 
misreads the name of the village where he is directed 
to go. His ticket carries him over another road, 
twenty miles farther than the town to which Riggs 
and Levi had gone to intercept him. He reaches the 
station near dark, having telegraphed in advance the 
train upon which he would travel. He finds that his 
telegram has not been delivered, and that no one an- 
swering his description of Vanderveer has been seen 
at the place. Being too late to return to town that 
night, he passes the evening wondering how he could 
have blundered so. In the morning he takes the early 
train back to New York, thinking that it will be better 
to go directly to Vanderveer’s office, where he can 
probably learn how he can reach that gentleman. 

When, therefore, Benonski appears at the office and 
inquires for Mr. Vanderveer, Godby — alias Mr. Smith 
— promptly appears. He was watching like a cat over 
every circumstance, and it would have been nearly im- 
possible for any visitor to have seen Vanderveer in 
these days without first passing through the hands 
of “ Mr. Smith.” The task is easier now because 
Harris is not at his office at all during this week of 
preparation. To-morrow is to be his wedding day. 
Godby has to take care of matters but for a few days 
more, and all will be well. 

Godby at once recognizes Benonski, and is startled 
to know that his scheme has fallen through. 

‘‘ Excuse me, — but do you represent Mr. Vander- 
veer in his absence?” asks Benonski, eying the man 
before him with the dim idea that he has seen him be- 
fore. 

“ Certainly. James Smith, at your service. What 
can I do for you?” 

“ Mr. Vanderveer is absent from the city, I believe. 
T called to learn the name of the place to which he has 
gone.” 

“Ah? And what might I call — your name, 
please? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


il8 

“ Benonski.” 

“ Can’t say, Mr. Benonski,” replies Godby, with a 
bland smile. ” You have business with Mr. Vander- 
veer? Sorry he is out of town for a few days.” 

“Yes. He wrote me as much. I went after him 
yesterday on his appointment. I must have gone to 
the wrong place. I failed to find him.” 

“ Oh, you are the gentleman then,” says Godby, 
brightening, as if pleased. “ I remember hearing him 
dictate the letter to you — to the typewriter. You were 
to go on where he is. I am sure he was very anxious 
to see you, too. Sorry you missed him. Mr. Van- 
derveer seemed to remember you as an old friend, I 
believe.” 

“ We were acquaintances a time ago,” says Be- 
nonski, cautiously. “ If you will be so good as to 
v/rite him a little note, and give me his correct ad- 
dress, I think I will try again.” 

“ Certainly. With great pleasure. When will you 
start?” 

“ There is a train at noon, if I have the right place 
at last. I misread it before. I merely wish to be 
made certain this time.” 

Curiously at this very moment a district messenger 
boy enters the office with a telegram, which he gives to 
Godby. He opens and reads: 

“ No birds flying yet. Shall we wait? Riggs.” 

He turns to Benonski, tearing the telegram in pieces 
as he does so, and says with instant wit that comes like 
an inspiration : 

“ It is funny, Mr. Benonski, but this telegram comes 
— ^wait a minute, messenger. This is from Mr. Van- 
derveer himself, sir. He says you have not appeared, 
and that if you call to say that he is very anxious to 
have you come. Singular! Shall I wire him that 
you will go at noon? ” 

“ Do so if you please, Mr. Smith.” 

Godby took a blank from the messenger and wrote: 

“ A Russian bird will fly at 12 M. Watch for him. 
No. 33." 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


I19 

But, pretending to read the message aloud, he read 
as follows; 

“ Vanderveer. Benonski goes on the noon train. 
Has just called. Meet him. Smith.” 

He folds the message ostentatiously, and puts it in 
the envelope for the messenger, as he says, turning to 
the Russian: 

“ Your business can not, perhaps, be done by mail? 
I am Mr. Vanderveer’s manager in the office. Any 
ordinary matter — even many confidential matters — he 
conducts through me. However, the message is gone, 
anyway.” 

It has occurred to Godby that he might find oiit 
something by quizzing his caller. He has only 
guessed that Benonski’s errand means that the fugi- 
tives have communicated. Perhaps he will be able to 
confirm the impression. 

“ It is not a matter that a third party can well at- 
tend to,” answers Benonski. 

“ It will do as well to see him, doubtless,” assents 
Godby, cunningly. “ I shall, however, be happy to 
give you any hints that might serve you. I believe 
Mr. Vanderveer’s business in New Jersey is of a some- 
what delicate nature.” 

Godby is experimenting. He hopes to indirectly 
draw the Russian out by exciting his curiosity. 

“ I presume it does not concern me, Mr. Smith,” 
says Benonski, as if he had not the slightest interest 
in this cunning hint. Nevertheless it has occurred to 
him that perhaps he might learn something of inter- 
est to a certain beautiful woman whose servant and 
devotee he is. The bait therefore has irresistibly at- 
tracted him. He does not immediately go out, and 
Godby exults to believe that he has succeeded in ex- 
citing his interest. 

“ No. But if you are going to see him I might 
suggest that you might possibly embarrass him. It is 
a case of some lady, I believe.” 

“ Ah! ” says Benonski, with face darkening a little. 
“ Then perhaps he is not so anxious to see me as he 
pretends? ” 


120 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ On the contrary — I infer from his manner, and 
some remarks that he dropped while dictating the let- 
ter, that he expects you to give him some important 
information. I assumed that it is about investments. 
He will have time to attend to money-making, I sup- 
pose, whatever he is doing.” 

“ Mr Vanderveer is much given to society, I be- 
lieve. Such was once the case. He is called very 
handsome.” 

“ More than ever, I think. You see, he was en- 
gaged to a girl at one time who turned out badly in 
some way. They thought at one time she had drowned 
herself, but it seems she turned up again. Vander- 
veer cared for her a good deal, it is said. Since then 
he has been forgetting her by a large amount of social 
dissipation. In fact, he has come to leave about all 
his business to my care. Perhaps you know about 
this, Mr. Benonski.” 

“ She drowned herself, you say? Oh! She turned 
up, then? He knows she — excuse me, Mr. Smith — 
but did you say that Mr. Vanderveer believes this — 
this person turned out badly? I am interested. If 
there is no objection I would like to hear about the 
matter. Vanderveer is a friend.” 

“ On the whole, I reproach myself for gossiping 
about my employer’s affairs. Still, it is public matter, 
Mr. Benonski. Thought you might have heard it.” 

“ Not I. But pray do not violate any confidence, 
Mr. Smith, to satisfy my impertinent curiosity. It 
must have been a shock to him and his friends. She 
would have committed suicide, I think you said.” , 

“ Oh! He makes no confidant of me in his affairs 
of the heart. I only remember when he heard she was 
living — some letter that he received — he was in the 
office here! Some said he had found some woman 
who pleased him better, and some said she was such a 
character that he discarded her on that account. I 
never knew the rights of the matter. I only know that 
he has some unusually strong attraction out in Jer- 
sey where he is now. I just give you the hint to save 
you from intruding in any way.” 

The faithful servant’s heart is very heavy as he 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. I2l 

thinks, “ How can I ever tell her? ” but he makes a 
good attempt to' conceal his feelings from the smiling 
Mr. Smith, to whom he is even grateful for the infor- 
mation. 

“ I should thank you, I suppose, for warning me 
how the land lies,” he says, not entirely able to hide 
his feelings. “ I will endeavor not to disturb Mr. 
Vanderveer’s lovemaking in Jersey. If I should, he 
will know that I have the best of motives,” he re- 
marks, as he takes his departure. 

The spy has not found out whether Benonski is the 
bearer of news from the fugitives, but he is satisfied 
with his work. He realizes that after this the fair 
Brauna will not trouble Vanderveer, if indeed Be- 
nonski has the chance to communicate the lies to her. 

Leaving Vanderveer’s office, Benonski remembers 
that he has promised to bring Brauna word of her 
sweetheart — to find out whether he still loves her. 
And he can only tell her the subtle and poisonous 
lies of Godby. 

He lifts his eyes to mark his way in the streets. 
Then suddenly his thoughts are sent whirling to 
chaos. He is turning the corner from Broadway, and 
face to face with him is a pedestrian, whom he is about 
to meet. On his face is a scar. His arms are long, 
his hands brawny, his motions like those of a cat. At 
his figure Benonski stares, with face paling like the 
face of the dead. It is Merki! 


CHAPTER XVII. 

“ HAVE I SEEN A GHOST, THEN? ” 

Merki does not in turn see Benonski — at least, see- 
ing him he gives no sign of recognition. But the 
faithful friend of the Alvaroft's, pale as marble, stag- 
gers against a near support, and looks after Merki 
with dilating and horrified eyes, until the latter, walk- 
ing ranidly, turns the near corner and disappears. 

“My God! Have I seen a ghost, then?” exclaims 


122 


DOUBLE JEOBARDV* 


Benonski, trembling and sweating in the paroxysm of 
a great astonishment and fear. Then he rushes quickly 
to the corner and stares after Merki. 

“ It is the same walk — like a cat pacing. The scar 
— the scar on his cheek — the long arms — two such 
men never lived. It is his ghost.” 

Benonski, ejaculating thus under his breath, and 
seized with a burning impulse to fathom the mystery, 
creeps on after Merki, watching him with growing 
wonder. 

Merki walks down the street until he meets a street 
car, which he boards, and is soon lost to Benonski’s 
view. Benonski’s first impulse is to follow him. but 
he refrains from doing so at length, and stops near a 
bookstall to think. By this time he is burning with 
a hot flush of excitement, his whole soul stirred by 
what he had seen. 

“ It was no ghost. It was a man. It was Ferrand 
Merki. Bah! It was no such thing. Did I not see 
Ferrand Merki in his shroud? Some one else in the 
world is like him — that is all. That can not be either. 
Heavens! He may not have been dead at all. Was it 
not some trick? How he startled me! I will go at 
once and tell them what I have seen.” 

With his mind in this whirl, Benonski rushes off 
to the elevated road and takes his way uptown. He 
was moved by the single resolve to unbosom himself to 
his friends. They may even show him that it is 
possible that Ferrand Merki really could be alive. And 
if they could then would all their danger be over. 

So in a half hour Benonski rushes in upon them 
breathless, bursting with his startling discovery. 

“ Wait, sir. I have seen a ghost, master Alvaroff. 
A ghost, I tell you,” he breaks out, as soon as he can 
speak. “ Ferrand Merki! I tell you he is not dead. 
I have seen him. I have seen him — this very morn- 
ing. Master he lives — he lives ! ” 

“ Stop, Benonski, stop! ” returns Alvaroff. “ What 
are you raving about? Calm yourself and tell me. 
What of Ferrand Merki? ” 

“ I have seen him, I tell you. On Broadway — ^this 
very day. Think you I would not know that wretch 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


123 


anywhere on earth? He is the same cat. He has the 
scar— he has the gait, arms, eyes, everything. I tell 
you it is he.” 

“ Nonsense, Benonski. You have merely seen some 
one who resembles him. Merki is dead. He was 
murdered by my daughter’s stiletto more than seven 
years ago. Let us not talk about it then. What you 
imagine is impossible.” 

“ But he may not have died. How do you know 
that he died? You never saw him dead — with your 
own eyes.” 

“ But I did,” broke in Brauna. “ It would be worse 
to know that he lives even than to be accused of his 
death. In that case I should be his wife. But I agree 
with papa. He is dead long ago. If you saw some 
one it was not Merki.” 

“ Then I am dead myself, and have seen his shade,” 
cries Benonski, persistently. “ I tell you that this 
very hour I saw that devil of the Moscow days — saw 
him face to face. He was nearer to me than you are 
at this instant. Think you I could ever forget? Have 
I not carried the memory of his face forever before my 
eyes? I tell you he lives. It is true you saw him, 
my lady — but not after he was in the hands of the 
coroners. What if they may have found life in him? 
I have heard of such things. He was a hateful and 
malignant wretch, was he not? Oh! Have you not 
wondered, then, why you are hunted after all these 
years? What if he is alive? Who, tell me, would be 
heir if you and my mistress here were put out of the 
way? It is he! It is Ferrand Merki who lives and is 
keeping back — and urging on this persecution. I be- 
lieve it, I believe it! I tell you I saw him! ” 

“ It is a wild idea,” says Alvaroff, thoughtfully. 
“ It might by some miracle be true. But how can 
you believe it? You have told me a hundred times 
that you have seen what neither I nor my daughter 
saw — Ferrand Merki at the coroner’s place, dead and 
stark as a stone. Of course he was. Dead men do 
not come back, Benonski. You have seen some one 
else.” 

“ It is true I saw the body of Merki. But it was 


124 


DOUBLE JEOPARDV. 


evening. I thought I saw plainly that he was dead. 
But I was mistaken. I now believe with all my soul 
that I must have been mistaken. Who else would 
trouble to follow you two after this long time? Tell 
me that! ” 

“ Golfi. It is Golfi, as the fellow Valond has told 
me, who thinks I am the traitor who betrayed the Mos- 
cow League.” 

“ But that does not explain why anybody hunts 
down my fair mistress. Golfi would not strike that 
way unless he was working for some other end. But 
if he is in company with Merki — then all would be 
clear.” 

Now this argument, earnestly struck out by Be- 
nonski, curiously enough runs in precisely the same 
channels with the reasonings which Alvaroff himself 
has worked out before. The statement of Valond had 
seemed at first entirely to explain their danger. But 
since that time Alvaroff, again and again recurring to 
the situation, has reasoned that it is singular that a 
man like Golfi should take a method so indirect to 
wreak his revenge. And all the circumstances seem 
to point to other motives. True, Golfi might plot 
for Brauna’s arrest, but it would only be in order to 
bring Alvaroff to grief. If Golfi alone had been work- 
ing then when their hiding place had been discovered, 
it would have been far more probable that Golfi would 
seize him secretly, and in his own person wreak the 
revenge he sought. 

“ What you say, Benonski, is very incredible and 
very improbable,” says Alvaroff, at length. “ Nev- 
ertheless it is worth thinking about. As you have 
said, everybody may have been deceived about the 
death of Merki. If he recovered from those wounds 
which the physicians declared went to his heart, then 
he would have good motives for remaining out of 
our sight, and concealing the fact of his existence. 
He could not reach us years ago, for we had fled to a 
secure hiding. But on the whole it is far more prob- 
able that you have been deceived by a resemblance. 
Merki died. Let him be.” 

Realizing that his master is not to be convinced 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 12 $ 

by any further affirmations, Benonski abruptly changes 
the conversation by saying : 

“ Very well, i am about to take a train to Jersey 
to see ” 

He does not finish, but Alvaroff, and much better 
Brauna, knows whom he means. 

It is not necessary, my faithful fellow,” she says, 
in a low, firm tone. “ 1 have found out all I desire 
to know. Stay with us. We are about to go away 
again.” 

“ Go away? ” he echoes. 

“ Tell him, papa,” she says, as she quietly leaves the 
room. 

“ Vanderveer is not worthy such a woman, Be- 
nonski. I am disappointed in him. We have learned 
that he is to be married — to-morrow. She wishes to 
leave New York this afternoon or in the morning. 
Can you blame hei ? ” 

“Damn his eyes!” said Benonski, savagely. “I 
think I will carry out my first intention. It will be a 
good thing.” 

“ Intention, Benonski ?’’ 

“ Yes — to choke this elegant rascal soundly. I 
can do it, and be back here before morning.” 

“ Soft, Benonski ! It may be conceded that we have 
some provocation for the choking — but you will re- 
frain. You were going to Jersey, you say? ” 

“ Yes. I have learned something. The story of 
the wedding does not surprise me. But I had not 
heard that.” 

“ She found it in the morning paper. Poor girl! ” 

“ That then is the reason for his absence in New 
Jersey. Call her back, and I will tell what I have 
learned.” 

Brauna, returning, sits down wearily, listening while 
Benonski, as gently as he can, relates what he has 
learned from “ Mr. Smith.” 

“ He knows, then! He has deserted me with a full 
knowledge that- .1 am living. I am glad to know it. 
I hope he will be happy with her. But I do not under- 
stand why he is in New Jersey. Perhaps Blanche is 
there also. It does not matter.” 


126 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Thus the poison sinks in, and the sting of it is like 
death. 

Benonski advised that there be no haste in getting 
away from New York. He pretended to argue plausi- 
bly that as long as they were here it would be best to 
make a good etfort at least, as Alvaroff had suggested, 
to br^ak down Golfi’s belief in the falsehood he was 
evidently pursuing. This clue Alvaroff is himself dis- 
posed to follow, and agreed with Benonski, promis- 
ing to attempt to induce Brauna to give up the idea of 
leaving the city immediately. 

But Benonski, in fact, cared not a whit any more 
about the movements and intentions of this shadowy 
Golfi. He has argued for remaining in New York 
because he has conceived a sudden and unalterable 
purpose. He means to find Ferrand Merki, and prove 
that he lives. He has decided with all the force of his 
stubborn mind that the man he has seen is no other 
than Merki. He can not explain how the miracle has 
been wrought, but the evidence of his senses and his 
memory is indisputable, and overcomes all sense of 
the improbabilities in the case. 

As soon as he is out of the house he sets at work, 
He first telegraphs to Vanderveer that he will not be 
able to keep the appointment in New Jersey. 

Then goes to the offices of the World, the Herald, 
and the Sun, and causes to be inserted the following 
personal : 

“ Ferrand Merki: If you desire to know where they 
are hiding, use the cipher in this paper. There is 
nothing without Liberty.” 

Then he waits for results. 

This evening Harris Vanderveer calls for the last 
time on his fiancee. To-morrow she will be his bride. 
She is more charming than he had ever seen her be- 
fore. Her spirits are contagiously high, and she 
makes him impatient for the hour when he can call her 
his own. 

He dallies in her fascinating presence like a bird 
charmed by the eyes of a serpent, until she says, very 
Coquettishly; 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


127 


"You must leave me now, dear heart The hour 
is ver}^ late, and Auntie will be shocked if you re- 
main longer.” 

"lill to-morrow, then, he cries, his soul in his 
voice. " My darling, good-by.” 

As he leaves the house he does not notice a rather 
rough-looking man on the opposite side of the street, 
who, on seeing Harris come out, crosses at once, fol- 
lowing closely as he hastens down the side street, 
to catch his downtown car. 

As Vanderveer reaches Columbus Avenue the man 
taps him on the shoulder, saying: 

“ Shure an I’d loike ter spake to yez, soir.” 

Vanderveer, a bit startled, turns, saying: 

“ Well my man, what is it? ” 

“ It’s meself, soir, what can tell yez a little sacret, be- 
gorra. Come inside, now,” the man replies, as he 
points to the little “ all-night ” restaurant on the corner 
where they are now standing. 

V anderveer is in such a happy state of mind he feels 
kindly toward all the world at this time, and thinking 
the man simply wants a meal at his expense, and as 
he does not see any car, he laughingly steps inside the 
little restaurant, thinking it will be amusing, perhaps, 
to see how the man, who has something of the air cf a 
wag about him, will ask for his supper. 

As they enter there are no other customers about, 
and leading the way half down the narrow room, the 
man drops into a chair, saying, quietly: 

Please sit down, Mr. Vanderveer. I wish to 
speak with you.” 

John Waters! ” exclaims Harris, in astonishment, 
recognizing his voice. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THERE WILL BE NO WEDDING.” 

Yes,” answers Waters. “ We met last by the sea. 
I believed then that it might be for the last time. But 
it has become necessary for me to make sorne inquiries. 
Your wedding is announcedr” 


128 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


" Well/’ returns Vanderveer, very haughtily. 

Vanderveer is recalled by the presence of Waters to 
the memory of the share this man had in the arrest. 
He does not intend to discuss his own affairs with 
a detective. He assumes a chilly air at once that 
Waters notices. 

“ I am not congratulating you, Mr. Vanderveer. I 
am not deceived, however, by the announcement, am I? 
Believe me, I have very good reasons for asking.” 

“ I do not care to be interviewed by you, Mr. Wa- 
ters. If you please.” 

He would even have risen from his seat to go, but 
Waters said, coldly, in a voice that arrested him at 
once: 

“ But I wish to talk with you. Sit still and listen. 
It will be better than to regret it later. I desire to 
talk with you about your intended marriage.” 

“ And I do not desire to talk with you about any- 
thing. You do not interest me, Mr. Waters.” 

” I will try to do so before I am done. You offered 
once in former days to draw cuts with me for the 
blank cartridge, on the chance of being able to kill me, 
I still think that would have been a mistake. I have 
come to feel differently about it since I saw the notice 
of your marriage. You are a more worthless being 
than I then thought you. I did at least believe you 
sincere. I find that you were not even that. For a 
man who could bluster so finely, you are a great dis- 
appointment. Why do you desert a true and beautiful 
woman to take up with ” 

Waters finishes with a gesture of supreme disgust, 
facing Vanderveer with his steely eyes that never 
flinch from their steady look as he speaks. 

“ It is no business of yours,” replies Vanderveer, 
hotly. 

I make it my business. You once pretended to 
love Miss Carrington.” 

Pretended! ” 

Nothing more, evidently. It was a pretense — or a 
self-deception, of course. Otherwise you would not 
now have deserted her for another.” 

^^anderveer’s manner softens as he says, sadly, 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


129 


“ Alas ! I have lost her. I do not know why you 
make it your affair — but I will grant for the moment 
that you may have some reasonable motive for your 
questions. If you wish me to defend my course I 
have no objections to doing so. Since when was it ex- 
pected of a man that he should refrain from marrying 
on account of some former affection? Since when was 
such a marriage the proof that his former affection was 
insincere? ’* 

“ Since the world began, of course. Especially in 
your case, too. Her misfortune, that would have 
bound any man not a coward closer, has been to you 
only the signal for deserting her.” 

‘ What are you talking about? You of all men 
should know that I stood by her to the end. Why 
are you interested in her, pray?” 

“ That I will not tell you. You stood by her? That 
is curious. And you are to be married to-morrow. 
Your steadfastness has curious limits. As she was 
accused of being a criminal you could not afford to 
make your attachments unconditional. True, you 
made a great show of them at Graystone — but they 
would not wear in fair weather, after all. You are 
going to marry another.” 

“ And why not? The world does not generally de- 
mand — honor does not necessarily demand — that I 
should remain, even the year that is decently de- 
manded of a widower, heart free. That course could 
not recall her to life from the silence of the ocean, Mr. 
Waters.” 

“ What? Speak that again. Harris Vanderveer, are 
you a rascal or a dupe? Is it true, then, that you have 
heard nothing — that you do not know that Oh! ” 

He stares at Vanderveer, his thoughts flashing about 
for the explanation, and then, bringing his hand softly 
down on Vanderveer’s, he says, in a low, magnetic, 
mellow tone that thrills like music: 

“Forgive me, Vanderveer. I have wronged you. 
You did not know that — she lives!” 

Vanderveer stares into Waterses eyes, and begins to 
tremble in every limb. Waters strokes his hand a lit- 
tle; waiting for him to sense the words. 


130 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


‘‘ My God! ” Vanderveer sobs at last, catching his 
breath like a man recovering from a swoon. “ And 1 
am to be married to-morrow. Speak! Tell me you 
are not jesting — or plotting. Who are you, John Wa- 
ters? ” 

“ A man who suffers,” says Waters, turning away his 
head. 

“ Does Brauna live? Tell me all.” 

“ You should know. She wrote you. Where is the 
letter? ” 

“ Why say that? I have no word. Prove what you 
say. Why do you torture me? If she lives why has 
she not Was there a letter, then? 

‘‘ Yes; and she lives, as I have said. She wrote long 
ago. I have heard that you received that letter. Your 
confidential clerk — Mr. Smith — told me so.” 

“ Incredible! You are romancing, Mr. Waters. 
But where is she? Tell me what you know. How did 
she, then, escape death in the sea? ” 

“ That I do not know. I have not seen her and 
do not know where they are hiding. I assumed that 
you knew and that you nevertheless were about to 
marry another. If I wronged you, Mr. Vanderveer, 
I apologize. There has been villainy, then. What be- 
came of the letter? ” 

“ Wait. Do you know, then, only that which my 
clerk told you? That shall be looked into. But if he 
told you I had a letter from Brauna — why did he tell 
you that, now? He may have made some mistake. 
But if that is all you know ” 

“ It is not. I know a man who has seen and talked 
with Alvaroff and his daughter. They live, and are 
in hiding still from their enemies. More than that, 
I was aware some time before I learned what I did 
from this man Smith that their enemies knew that they 
lived and were planning to recapture them. If you did 
not get the letter, then either your clerk had a reason 
for lying to me, or he has failed to give you the letter. 
Who, now, is Mr. James Smith? ” 

“ He comes recommended. His references are of 
the best. He could have no motive for doing what 
vou charge him with.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


131 

“ None known to you. Vanderveer, there’s a loose 
place somewhere. But one thing is fact without doubt. 
The fugitives live.” 

“ Why do you tell me this, pray? Why are you not 
engaged,’ then, in hunting them down, as you did be- 
fore? ’■ 

“ Bah! Are you then so simple as not to be able 
to see an inch before your nose? Was I to put my- 
self at the mercy of everybody? It is time now that 
I confided in you, if you are worthy of it. Tell me, 
then, first, on what day you will marry Blanche Evans- 
ton.” 

” At the end of a million millenniums beyond the 
conclusion of eternity — if my darling lives.” 

He rises to his feet, and his fine eyes glitter like 
light, till Waters feels a qualm of heartsickness at what 
he has done. Here he is, driving stings into his own 
heart in behalf of the man whom he had intended 
merely to accuse and perhaps smite in the face when he 
came in here. But he is glad in the midst of the pain 
that Vanderveer has not proved the coward he thought 
him. Waters gives a little sigh, and then says, 
quietly: 

“ I am glad to hear you speak like that, Mr. Van- 
derveer. It is like the man who once stood by her 
against the world and all danger. That deserves a 
return from me, and I will honor it. Tell me what 
you will do ? ” 

“ Break off without a regret. There will be no wed- 
ding.” 

‘‘ There may be a better way. Vanderveer, I have 
a plan by which we may save her and end this danger. 
But first I want to find them. You will help me. I 
have a clue, gained to-day, that will possibly lead to 
something. But it has astonished me, and I am not 
certain yet what it means. 

By heaven we will find them if they are on the 
earth. But why do you speak of saving them? You 
did not once work on that side.” 

Excuse me — but you were not to blame for be- 
ing a little stupid about me in that affair at Graystone. 
I acted for the best. Recall that matter a little in your 


132 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


mind, if you please. Did it ever strike you as singular 
that when the prisoners were put into that room no 
search of the room was made — for weapons, let us 
say — or for means of escape. Did I not know the re- 
sources of Alvaroff? Do you think me such kn ass as 
to make that sort of provision which I did make 
against the escape of prisoners who were so impor- 
tant to my superiors as they? Do you not think I 
could read a man like Godby? Vanderveer, if Godby 
had not done just what I expected him to do, I had a 
dozen good ways of letting them slip loose. I made 
that arrest for their sakes. Suppose I had left it to a 
fool like Godby? ” 

Waters smiles, and looks calmly at Vanderveer. He 
is either a most consummate actor or a most skill- 
ful and powerful friend. Vanderveer stares at him, 
and when he can recover his wits after this astonish- 
ing revelation, he says, inquiringly : 

“ But she was deceived, then. She did not know. If 
vou were a friend why did you not make some sign? ” 

“ When — if ever — you know the men with whom I 
have associated for my own reasons, you will not ask. 
To-night I am risking something by opening the 
truth to you. If you betray me my life will be likely 
to pay for it. But that matters very little after I have 
served her. You therefore are to treat me as an 
enemy at all times when you see me in my own proper 
person. I am in disguise because I am watched. I 
have learned that I am suspected with having allowed 
my own ideas to interfere with certain commissions 
intrusted to me. Never mind that, Mr. Vanderveer, 
I hope not to die, and I hope not to be discovered, until 
the woman you love is saved. But once for all, I am 
her friend — and I think together we can accomplish 
that end. But begin by trusting me utterly.” 

Vanderveer looks into the calm, steady blue eyes. 
He remembers how this man has nobly refused his 
challenge. In spite of himself, when he thought him 
an enemy, Vanderveer has found it hard to believe. 
Now, as he looks in Waters’s face, he yields to the 
magnetism of those eyes, and reaches across the table 
with his hand. Their hands meet, and Waters says, in 
a low tone: 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


133 


“ You will find her, Vanderveer — you will be happy. 
I congratulate you on winning the best woman in the 
world. I only hope she has not heard of your intended 
marriage. But now to business. Henceforth we 
work together. Let me tell you what I found to-day.” 

Waters takes out from his pocket a orumpled 
Evening Sim, and, pointing to a paragraph, Vander- 
veer reads Benonski’s advertisement slowly, not sens- 
ing it in the least. 

“ What is the meaning of that, Mr. Waters? ” 

Do vou not remember that name — Ferrand Mer- 
ki?” 

“ Certainly. But he has been dead seven years.” 

“ True! That is the circumstance that renders this 
advertisement so mysterious. But I believe it refers 
to the fugitives. It was written by one of their en- 
emies. The last clause: ‘There is nothing without 
Liberty,’ is familiar. Alvaroff was at one time a mem- 
ber of the Moscow League. That motto is one of the 
League formulas. If it means anything, it means that 
some one has discovered where they are hiding, and 
will possibly speculate on the information. But the 
strange part of it is that the name of Ferrand Merki 
has been used. I take that to be some signal agreed 
upon, to be used as a means of identification of the ad- 
vertiser.” 

“ You astonish me. It does indeed seem to refer 
to them — to some parties, at all events, who are in 
hiding.” 

“ Yes. If the person for whom it is intended sees it, 
he will at once answer it in a cipher. I shall be able 
to read that cipher. Then we may make progress. 
Meanwhile I have a proposal to make. As I am sus- 
pected of having let them slip before, I propose to 
arrest them again if we can find them.” 

“ Arrest them again? ” 

“ Yes; and bring them to trial, too. Listen to mv 
plan.” 

Vanderveer sits for an hour, while John Waters ex- 
plains his daring scheme for saving the woman whom 
they both love. He goes home that night with a soul 
filled with admiration for John Waters and love for 
his hunted darling. 


IdoUbLE jeopardy. 
CHAPTER XIX. 




AN UNWELCOME TELEGRAM. 

It is the morning of Blanche’s wedding day. 

Her wedding day! 

Who shall ever tell, of this serene creature rising 
early to prepare, that she has had other wedding days 
too? 

But this is the first heart and soul day for her. Be- 
fore the sun is at the zenith on this golden day of sun- 
shine and joy she will make her past to disappear and 
a new world shall begin. It is so good to be able to 
undo history! 

The sentiment of the ages pronounced an impos- 
sible dream she will now accomplish. The things that 
have been shall now be as if they had not. Dodo of 
the Rue Laval she once was. She shall now say to 
herself with the evening lamp lighting that Dodo 
never was. The black dreams of her memory will 
fade with the hateful face of Francois for ever away in 
the dawning rose light of a good man’s love, and she 
will be re-created. Virtue shall sit at her thresh- 
old and sin shall flee away. 

How we all dream that dream! To begin again — 
under better circumstances — to live another life — to 
know no shadowed past — yes, it is a vision of super- 
nal things, but oh! so difficult to accomplish. 

But if any one can do this can not Blanche? She 
has built up such an impenetrable web of lies over the 
past. She has made her better self a reality in the eyes 
of all the world. She has left no trace of the gigantic 
lie to betray her. This remarkable woman with the 
brain of a diplomat and the art of a finished actress has 
left nothing undone. She knows in advance the sud- 
den fate that before the day is gone will overtake 
Francois d’Avigne. She has Pierre Goidbeau drilled 
to his part. The track on which her new fortune 
will proceed is laid far out into the future. Nothing 
can prevent. Like a wise general, moreover, she has 
even provided for possible failure or delay. Not a 
blow will be struck until the wedding has been ac- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


135 


complished. If even then anything prevents the de- 
struction of d’Avigne, she will not fear him. Even 
he will not be able, she believes, to ruin her, so skillful 
has been her work. 

And now this doll-faced, lovely, sensuous creature, 
with unalloyed exultation in her heart, begins the fate- 
ful day. 

God will not have it so. Blanche shall not bury the 
past. If she succeeds to-day, like every success, that 
will leave her still the creature of her fate, and being 
destined by the inexorable eternities out of which she 
comes, and into which she again must go, to live once 
and go her predestined path and no other, her success 
will not change the decrees which the stars write for 
every soul born into the world. 

The beginning of her undoing comes with her 
breakfast. It brings her a shock that makes her 
tremble. There is a telegram among a half dozen 
messages of congratulation on her plate, which she 
opens first, supposing, with a smile on her face, that 
it is only another congratulation from a distance. She 
reads : 

“ Mr. Vanderveer smitten with a heart shock at 
midnight. Is very low. The physician gives little 
hope.” 

The telegram is signed by his sister, with whom he 
lives. Blanche, reading it, grows pale as death. She 
knows in the first instant that this means delay — per- 
haps failure and ruin. “ A heart shock.” What did 
that mean? 

The whole situation rushes upon her in a dozen 
flashes of thought. To her credit, amid the forebod- 
ings as to the future of her plans, is a sudden pang for 
Vanderveer, for she loves him. 

But Blanche has nerves of steel. 

She rises from the table hastily, and informs the 
person who poses as her aunt that the telegram has 
announced Vanderveer’s sudden illness. Then she 
orders a carriage and drives to Goidbeau’s lodgings. 

“ We are delayed. Vanderveer is ill. The wedding 


136 DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

will not occur to-day,” she announces, when Goidbeau 
appears. 

“ 111? You are tricking me. He was well as I yes- 
terday.” 

Blanche shows him the telegram. 

“ My head for it he has seen Benonski. It is all 
day with our plans then.” 

“ Benonski is in Jersey, is he not? ” 

“ Not so. He telegraphed after he left my office 
that he would not go. I have just got the word from 
Riggs. I should have been to see you in thirty 
minutes. I do not believe Vanderveer is sick.” 

Blanche is now thoroughly startled. She sees her 
fabric crumbling. Goidbeau may be right. But she 
does not abandon hope nor accept his opinion. 

” You are stupid, Goidbeau. If Vanderveer has seen 
Benonski he would simply come over and do one of 
two things — go on with the wedding as a matter of 
honor — even if he prefers her, or call me names and 
break off like a man. He isn’t the kind to sneak out 
on a pretense of sickness. I am going there immedi- 
ately. Of course, my place is now by his* side. Mean- 
while we will attend to it that he neither sees nor hears 
from Benonski. Keep still and make no move until 
I give you the word. It is only a little delay, believe 
me.” 

Nevertheless her soul is flaming with apprehension 
as she drives off to the house of her bridegroom-elect, 
who might now never be a bridegroom at the altar 
with her. 

At the door she is met by a servant with a grave face, 
who attends her into the parlors. 

* ” Mr. Vanderveer can see no one, Miss Evanston, 
not even you. His life depends on it. The doctor is 
here now. He has been here nearly all night. He will 
see you in a few moments.” 

Blanche breathes freely again, the reaction from her 
fears being so great she almost swoons. The servant 
attributes this pallor to the shock his words have given, 
and reasons that she naturallv would feel like this since 
she is Vanderveer’s fiancee, and this was to have been 
their wedding day. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


137 


He gives her a little wine and retires. Blanche 
thinks the danger over. He must be genuinely sick. 
He has not merely heard something to lead him to de- 
lay, and excused himself on the plea of illness. 

Presently a gentleman appears whom she recognizes 
as a physician whom she has met before He recog- 
nizes her and bows gravely. 

“ Miss Evanston, I regret to say to you that Van- 
derveer has had a severe affection of the heart. You 
would better prepare yourself for whatever may en- 
sue,” says Doctor Brill, seriously. “ There is a slight 
chance for him to recover if he follows the plan laid out 
for him. But I have forbidden any one to see him. 
I sympathize with you, my dear Miss Evanston. Be 
sure your friends will all extend their sympathies. I 
will tell you that forseeing your possible embarrass- 
ment, I took pains to give to the press by special mes- 
senger during the night a statement of his condition. 
It is in the morning Tribune and the Herald. This will 
save you some embarrassment in answering possible 
questions.” 

He takes from his pocket a Tribune and shows her 
the item: 

“ We regret to learn that Mr. Harris Vanderveer, 
whose wedding was announced for to-day at noon, was 
seized last evening with a dangerous heart trouble, and 
his life is despaired of. The wedding is of course 
postponed.” 

Blanche, in spite of this evidence of Vanderveer’s 
desperate condition, is greatly relieved. He might 
die — then her plans would be ended, true — but she pre- 
ferred this by far to the possibility of seeing him again 
in the arms of her rival, as she had feared he might be if 
Goidbeau’s suspicions had proved true. 

She drives back home after some tears and genuine 
grief for Vanderveer, having the promise that she 
should receive messages at least twice a day from the 
sick bed. She goes away reviving her plans, and 
praying that Vanderveer may not die. 

As she has been gone two hours and the morning 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


13^ 

is now well advanced, she is not surprised to find 
D’Avigne waiting to see her. 

Par dieu^ ma cMre^ I wish you a very good morn- 
ing. How is this? Pale! It won’t do at all. You 
should be rosy as the sun this morning. I salute 
you.” 

He kisses her hand in a kind of light and mocking 
obsequiousness. Blanche, who has expected to see 
him, is prepared for him. He will hear the news. She 
does not hope to conceal it. She tosses her head and 
says, seriously: 

“ I am glad you came. I feared you might desert 
me through sheer jealousy. But your chances have 
improved. Vanderveer is sick! ” 

“ What do you mean? ” 

‘* Likely to die. I have just been refused admis- 
sion to his chamber.” 

He sees that she is in earnest, and at once compre- 
hends the seriousness of the situation. He is very 
quick-witted, and understands Blanche’s expressions. 

“ I believe you. That means Sacre! It is 

unfortunate. Is it nothing worse than sickness? My 
fortune seems to hitch. But tell me all.” 

“ I received this at the breakfast table,” showing 
him the telegram. 

He reads it with a little scowl. 

“ And it is genuine — there is no danger in it far- 
ther? ” 

“ I saw Doctor Brill. He declares that Vanderveer 
has but a slight chance to escape death.” 

“ So bad? No wonder you are pale. On the wed- 
ding day, too! But it might be worse. If he dies we 
can go elsewhere. If he doesn’t we can continue.” 

“ If we do not meet with more snags. I have not 
told you about Benonski. You do not know him. 
He was a servant and confidential man of the Alvar- 
offs. One of those absurd fellows who are faithful 
for nothing.” 

“ I don’t believe in them. Every man has his condi- 
tions. What of this Benonski? You have some- 
thing important.” 

He guesses this because he, too, like Goidbeau, has 


DOUBLE JEOPARD V. I39 

learned to anticipate something of moment whenever 
Blanche begins to take on that dreamy, false tone. 

“ Important? What is important, Francois? Noth- 
ing whatever. Everything is trivial. We are to die 
— that will be the least important thing of all. This 
Benonski has been to see Pierre. He wrote first say- 
ing he had something important for Vanderveer. 
Goidbeau is sharp — when he is not dull. I adore 
Pierre. He loved me before you did, don’t forget. 
Well — about Benonski. Pierre was sharp enough to 
set a trap. We both believed that he could have but 
one thing about which he could wish to see Vander- 
veer. He has learned that Brauna Alvaroff is living, 
and wished to tell about it. That would not have 
suited me> would it, mon cherf ” 

“ The devil! Why did you not tell me? He is still 
at large then, no doubt. How can we know that this 
does not explain Vanderveer’s sickness?” 

“ Soft, my love. It does not explain anything. Be- 
nonski doubtless has not yet seen Vanderveer. It is 
doubtful if he will try. But there was just a little 
danger of it for a time — so Pierre and I decided. But 
let us hope that is past. But you did not hear about 
our trap.” 

“ The trap! You set a trap and caught ” 

“ Nothing at all.” 

“Failed, do you mean?” 

“ Yes. But Pierre was better than a trap after all. 
Let me tell you. We sent him out into Jersey on a 
wild goose chase. Pierre arranged with a couple of 
good fellows of his acquaintance to detain him there 
until after the wedding. He went to the wrong place 
— missed them — came back and agreed with Pierre on 
a new start. This morning Pierre hears that he sent 
a telegram instead that he would not go. What does 
that mean? ” 

“ Pest! That he has discovered something. The 
thing was bungled. I am more inclined to think that 
this is the cause of Vanderveer’s sickness. We must 
look out, Dodo.” 

She smiles and gives a little gesture of disdain. 

“ If you are afraid, say so. I did not know what a 


Double jeopardy. 


146 

chicken you really are. But reserve your sentiments. 
There is more to it.” 

“ Tell it then.” 

Francois conceals his annoyance under a smile. He 
is by no means pleased by this evidence that Pierre 
and Blanche have been conducting an important mat- 
ter without taking him into their confidence. 

“ Pierre filled this Russian full of lies. That is his 
reason for not going to Jersey. I guess that he 
waited to tell his lies to the friends before he started. 
I also guess that when this saint who murdered her 
husband ” 

“ Bah! You are talking nonsense. You do not be- 
lieve that, of course,” interrupts Franqois. 

She gives a gesture of disgust and says, softly: 

Of course. Isn’t she hiding? Why does she hide 
if she isn’t guilty? You are too credulous. Pierre 
doesn’t believe it either. I do, of course. But don’t 
interrupt. I’ll never get to my point. I am telling 
you what I guess. Benonski told Pierre’s lies to the 
saint. One of them is that he got her letter and had 
decided that she was not a very nice person to marry. 
Pierre didn’t tell that as news, but merely as if every- 
body knew it. It was nicely done, so Pierre himself 
declares. The saint is sharp enough to be proud. 
She tells Benonski that he needn’t go to Jersey to fol- 
low a man who has basely deserted her. So he tele- 
graphs, and they retire. That will settle the matter 
for some time. He will make no more effort to see 
Vanderveer, and Vanderveer, being sick, will learn 
nothing. She is the only one interested in telling him, 
and she will never do it. So you need not be fright- 
ened, Monsieur d’Avigne,” she sneers, gleaming on 
him with her soft, dovelike eyes, as she leans back in 
her easy chair like the beautiful animal that she is, her 
whole attitude betraying the consciousness that she 
feels herself still to be mistress of the situation. 

“Superb! If what you tell is the truth, you have 
managed like a diplomat. It is cursed unfortunate 
that he is taken sick. But we seem to be able to wait. 
But it is better not to leave any loopholes. There 
ought to be a way to verify this account of Vander- 
veer’s sickness. Think, Dodo, dear,” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


141 

It is folly. The physician would not dare to — 
there is no motive whatever for deceit. But if you 
wish really to be more certain, I will see Pierre. He 
has a girl — a French housemaid — in Vanderveer's 
house. We took that precaution some time since. 
She shall find out, certainly. It will do no harm.” 

“ Set her at work then,” says Francois. 


CHAPTER XX. 

WHY HAVE YOU BETRAYED US ? ” 

Count St. Mart Golfi, sitting once more alone, is 
again studying the book of records of the Moscow 
League, when he is interrupted by a message from the 
little telegraph bell at his hand. 

His brows cloud darker, as he says to himself: 

'‘Ah! He will come, then. He is not shrewd 
enough. I believed he had the alarm and had made 
himself safe beyond my reach. A brave and skillful 
man, but a traitor — perhaps — perhaps,” then signals, 
“ Admit the person who wishes to enter.” 

In a few seconds John Waters enters, looks all 
around with a sharp glitter of his watchful eyes. Golfi 
wonders if he has any warning that he may be walk- 
ing into the jaws of the tiger. 

“ Number 66! Sit down. I have sent for you.” 

“ Yes. I have come. Command me.” 

“Good! I will. Waters, I command you to die.” 

“ It is a slight thing,” says Waters, with a smile. 
He knows from the manner and the tone, however, 
that Golfi is not jesting. 

“True! Death was robbed of its terrors when we 
became patriots. You have played us false. Deny 
it and I will show you the records.” 

“ Records are mostly fictions. I came for the pur- 
pose of showing that. Besides, when I die, it will be 
in a good cause and not as a traitor. I am not ready 
yet to obey even so unimportant an order as that. Why 
am I suspected?” 

“ You have plotted. You have allowed our ene- 
mies to escape death.” 


142 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Prove it. Bring me the man who affirms it.” 

“ I myself am the man. More suspects have es- 
caped from you than from all the other arrests and 
seizures in the history of this League.” 

“ You ought to know whether I am to blame. Who 
let these people slip? Was it not in every case men 
who were trusted and whom I used because I must? 
When did I ever select my own subordinates? ” 

“ I have considered that. Invariably you have put 
some weak fellow on guard — or you have managed to 
have your orders miscarry. Your cases are too clear. 
I advise you to obey my order. If you do not, the 
earth will not be large enough to hide you from the 
justice of the patriots of Moscow.” 

” It is trivial — as I have said. I am complimented 
that you give me the choice accorded only to brave 
men. Cowards are not that way dealt with. How 
soon do you demand that your order be executed, 
Count Golfi?” 

“ I give you twenty-four hours.” 

‘‘ You are too generous. I should not be willing 
to give you six if we were to exchange places. It is 
time sufficient for a man like me to do a great deal of 
mischief.” 

” That may be a threat. I will therefore reduce it 
to six. After that I shall sign the red order and give 
it to fifty patriots. They will understand; it is an un- 
usual case.” 

“ I myself understand. The red order is carte 
blanche to fifty men to assassinate me on sight. Fear 
and honor will combine to spur them to the task. Very 
well. I can not undo the orders of Count St. Mart 
Golfi. But when I am dead, it will still vex you that 
Alvaroff, the traitor of the plot of 1874, still walks 
the earth. I am sure you would prefer that he should 
die, if choice were given you. Let us speak of him.” 

“ So! You know this, do you? It is a pity as God 
lives to kill a man who knows as much as all the men 
who will destroy him combined. Waters, why have 
you betrayed us? ” 

“ You count my denials as straw. When I think 
you yourself believe that I have betrayed the patriots 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


143 


of this League I will begin to suspect it myself. I de- 
pend greatly on the judgment of Count St. Mart 
Golfi.” 

His cool disdain is admirable. He bows low, never 
changing his baffling smile, as he stands in his chal- 
lenging defiance before the terrible Golfi. 

True! Your denials are those of a man to whom 
black would be white if he only resolved upon it. But 
you have ceased to deceive me. A man is not really 
too valuable to die when he becomes too dangerous 
to live. But you have not denied. You merely 
parry.” 

“ I feel humiliated. I parry — and, stupid that I am, 
I do it so bunglingly you discern it at once. Let it be 
so. Would you believe me if I denied with some 
show of emphasis? Doubtless you would! Doubt- 
less you feel certain that a man who might be suspected 
of being a traitor must not be suspected of being a liar. 
Admirable logic! ” 

Golfi laughs. He is almost disposed to recall the 
fatal order, under the conviction that in spite of the 
records he is mistaken in his judgment. But he is 
not at ease in Waters’s presence. Powerful as he is 
himself, he has the uneasy consciousness that here is a 
man not a whit his inferior, to say the least. 

“ Since you do not see fit to deny, then why should 
not I conclude that you confess?” he goes on, pur- 
suing his thought persistently. 

Because you might more easily imagine that I 
would deny. Let us leave the matter there. If my 
work is done in behalf of Russia and her oppressed 
ones there is little left that invites me to life. I think it 
likely your order will be timely and most agreeable. 
But I have a word for you first. Let us return to Al- 
varo ff. You are aware that he lives.” 

What of Alvaroff ? It was you who permitted his 
escape.” 

So. This, then, was the charge. Who made it? ” 
Godby told of it.” 

“ Who else was there? ” 

You know; but it is here.” 

He turns to the record book and reads off the 
names. 


144 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ It is correct,” assents Waters, coldly. One of 
them is Martin, I recall. Call Martin and ask him 
how many men I ordered to be put in that room.” 

“ I will.” 

He rings the bell. Baron de Lani appears in a mo- 
ment, bowing. 

“ Go,” says Golfi, imperiously, “ and bring me Num- 
ber 43 — Alcaire Martin.” 

Waters remains coolly silent until Martin enters. 

“ Question him,” says Waters, without a quaver. 

Turning to Martin, Golfi demands, in stern voice: 

“ The prisoners escaped from the house — did they 
not? ” 

“ True. That is well known.” 

“ Who guarded them?” 

“ Godby inside — I outside. I have heard that 
Godbv has been punished. I hope I am not accused 
also.”^ 

Martin seems to show trepidation, and edges away 
a little before the gaze of his chief, as if wishing him- 
self anywhere else save here. 

“ Have no fear. What were the orders given you by 
Waters? Tell all you know.” 

” Mr Waters ordered Godby and two more to stay 
inside, and set me at the door. Godby dismissed the 
other two, and told us that he was entirely able to 
guard the prisoners himself.” 

” Why did you not report this to Waters? ” 

“ Godby had been sent by Mercer Street, and I had 
been ordered to obey him. Mr. Waters came later 
with orders from the League. I felt it my duty to 
obey Godby, and not Waters.” 

“ That will do, Martin. I will look into the matter 
further. Good day, sir.” 

Martin steals out, casting a sly glance at Waters, 
who appears not to notice him as he leaves the room. 

‘‘ Martin has a good lesson,” sneers the count. “ He 
must have consulted. But I have decided to believe 
him until I decide to believe something else. Waters, 
I extend the time. I will notify you when it expires. 
Martin has given you a reprieve.” 

“ That is also a trifle. But you may now be will- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


145 


ing to listen to that which I came here to say. Godby 
has reported to you I learn, that the traitor Alvaroff 
is living.” 

” Godby? You should know that he is in Russia. 
Godby has told nothing.” 

“What?” exclaims Waters, in apparent astonish- 
ment. “ You must be mistaken. Godby is in New 
York. Now by the great Jupiter, Count Golfi, I have 
solved a problem! Heavens! Count, as I live I 
think I can tell you why Alvaroff was allowed to es- 
cape. Come! The thing is plain as day! It has puz- 
zled me, and I do not frequently get baffled, as you 
may know. Count Golfi — the secret is Godby. He is 
in New York. This very day I guessed him out. Let 
me tell you the truth now. Godby, who let them get 
away before, has been rewarded. He did not go to 
Russia. You have heard that Alvaroff ’s daughter 
has a lover. Very well. Godby is in that man’s em- 
ploy. I have seen him. He is in disguise. For a 
long time I have been puzzling over his face. I had 
seen him somewhere, that I knew. I had heard the 
voice. To-day I hit the solution. I will tell you, 
whether you believe it or not, that I have made up 
my mind to undo the mischief Godby did that night, 
and to hunt these people down. I have an interest. 
My reputation has suffered. I will put into your 
hands again the traitor Alvaroff and his daughter, if 
you want her also.” 

Waters, studying carefully every word he is say- 
ing, seems to be suppressing his emotions, and keep- 
ing back some possible enthusiasm as he speaks. Golfi 
looks at him with interest. He can not find ground 
for believing that this remarkable man is merely act- 
ing. He sees no reason why he should lie where he 
is sure to be discovered. He is startled to hear him 
say that Godby did not go to Russia. It gives him 
some suspicions that his orders were thwarted by 
somebody. He could not tell why he has so much 
difficulty with this Alvaroff case. 

“ I believe that Alvaroff will be caught, Mr. Wa- 
ters,” he replies, not ready yet to take up Waters too 
confidently. “ But that was certain as soon as we 


146 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


got word that he still lives. He can not escape. But 
the Godby clue is valuable. There can be no ob- 
jection to working it. Mr. Waters, I warn you that 
there will be no more opportunities for such slips as 
you seem to have been implicated in during your his- 
tory — as these books show. Work if you like. If 
you capture this cursed traitor and his daughter, who 
is quite as important just now, it will do something to 
correct these records against you.” 

“ Why do you also hunt the traitor’s daughter. I 
find it harder to hunt down women. Count Golfi. But 
it might be easier if I knew there is a good reason. 
True, I have heard the case. She murdered Merki. 
But I am not intrested in that. Pardon me. Why 
are you? ” 

“ It is a very easy way to strike deeper. I remem- 
ber Siberia. I will sting the traitor to the brink of his 
grave. I remember Siberia.” 

“ I have memories, also, Count Golfi. But I strike 
my enemies, and not their innocent children. Merki 
was a doubtful Nihilist, was he not? ” 

“Perhaps. But I am not disposed to give an ac- 
counting to you, Mr. Waters. This is the way I 
have chosen to strike. I remember a hint. It was 
suggested to me that you might have been tender- 
hearted about the daughter. Your questions run the 
same way. On the whole you would better keep your 
hands off the case entirely. There might be some- 
thing in it.” 

“ Ah, Count Golfi! I see it is not easy to evade the 
penetrating power of your keen mind. I did not think 
that my face and w'ords would so betray me. I can 
not deny your charge. My heart was seized by the 
grip of a woman’s eyes. Count Golfi. I loved her. 
But that was one reason why I would rather have seen 
her dead than in the arms of another man. But all 
that is past. I went there to make sure about that 
arrest. I hoped, when she saw that she was in the 
toils, that she might even repent that she had dis- 
dained my offers. I proposed to her — and she laughed 
at me. She told me plainly that she preferred another 
man. Think you that such a man as I forget that 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


147 


easily? She refused me. Very well. I may not like 
to persecute even after that — but you can judge for 
yourself whether I am capable of allowing her to es- 
cape into a rival’s arms. Mr. Vanderveer challenged 
me. He challenged me twice. But I, in turn, could 
laugh at him. He had the satisfaction of seeing her 
escape, thanks to Godby. Now he has broken off 
with a woman whom he was about to marry. That 
means that he has heard that they still live. It is in 
the papers. So now if you. Count Golfi, think I am 
anxious to assist him — and her — because I once 
thought I loved her, you can reflect on the situation 
longer. It will not be my fault that she is arrested. 
I will stay by and let another do it.” 

“ On the contrary, if they are found you shall do it 
yourself. That will give me some clue to you, Mr. 
Waters. I give you positive orders. You shall have 
entire charge of the case. This is your opportunity 
to re-establish yourself, sir,” replies Golfi, smiling, as 
he writes out the order. 


CHAPTER XXL 

“ YOU HAVE BEEN DREAMING! ” 

' There is nothing without Liberty.’ Nearest bench 
to the Broadway entrance of the City Hall. Saturday 
on the stroke of 10 a.m. Siberia.” 

Benonski translates the cipher as it appears in the 
Herald on Thursday. He knows it is an answer to his 
own personal, inserted the day before. He has not 
changed his mind about his identification of Ferrand 
Merki, but is satisfied that the being whom he saw at 
the Broadway corner is no other than the same man 
whom he once saw in his shroud in the coron- 
er’s place seven years gone by. He is also firm in the 
hope that this fortunate discovery will be the means 
of saving from further trials and pursuit by enemies 
the beautiful daughter of his master. 

If there is more to it, and if Alvaroff is indeed the 


48 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


object of Count Golfi’s vengeance, as he has ex- 
plained, still it will be much to remove the nearer and 
more imminent danger. A private revenge has less 
terror than a threat of prosecution for a public crime, 
and Alvarofif is a man. If his daughter is saved he 
will care very little what a Russian refugee may try 
to do. 

Benonski, reasoning thus, has determined to verify, 
if possible, his brief recognition of Merki. He does 
not hope to do more by his advertisement. He hopes 
Merki by this means may be brought within his 
reach, and he sets cunningly about his plan. He re- 
flects that if Merki is living and has not shown him- 
self to those who know him, then he has some reason 
for hiding. 

Benonski has not been astonished to remember 
that Merki showed no sign of recognition on meet- 
ing him face to face. He believes that he might with 
impunity go to Merki anywhere without the danger 
of being remembered. 

Nevertheless, as the part of a greater prudence, he 
goes to a little costumer’s in White Street, and se- 
cures a skillful disguise. He thought it best to take 
no chances. In this disguise, when Saturday comes, 
he boards a car and rides to the City Hall Square. In 
his impatience he is a half hour early, but keeping him- 
self in control, he sits quietly down on the bench 
nearest the Broadway entrance to City Hall. It is a 
pleasant winter morning, and, taking a morning paper 
from his pocket, he begins reading. He had hardly 
glanced at the paper when a man having the appear- 
ance of a well-to-do country merchant of advanced 
years comes along from the direction of the Postof- 
fice, and inquires the way to the Brooklyn Ferry. 
Benonski starts. He looks at the stranger keenly for 
a moment, but there was no sign in him of any re- 
semblance to anybody whom Benonski had ever seen 
before, so, giving the required direction, he turns once 
more to his newspaper. 

“Ah, Mr. Benonski. You disguise yourself well,” 
says the stranger, coolly. 

The Russian catches his breath, stares at the 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. I49 

Stranger in amazement and humiliation. He is discov- 
ered the very first instant. 

‘‘ I repeat it — you have done it very well. But the 
voice — surely you do not manage that. No one can 
manage the voice perfectly. It has betrayed many a 
man. ‘ There is nothing without Liberty ’ — therefore 
I wish to know, on the honor of a brother, why you 
have advertised.” 

“ Who, then, are you? ” asks Benonski, still staring 
at the old man. “ If you were the devil himself you 
could not guess more to the point.” 

“ I have come in answer to your advertisement. Did 
you not expect me? ” 

“ No. The man whom I expected — but I will say 
nothing. Who are you and who sent you?” 

“ Pardon me, Mr. Benonski — I am not quite ready 
to tell you. But first I am Alvaroff’s friend. I have 
come here to capture you and seal up your lips. That 
is, now I have discovered that it is you who have ad- 
vertised, that will be my plan. You may trust me. 
Now, as you love Dimitri Alvaroff — but perhaps you 
do not love him. I once thought so. If so, why do 
you now plot to betray him?” 

This question is the best one for the purpose that 
could have been asked. It rouses Benonski, and 
stings him, too. Whenever his loyalty to the only per- 
sons on earth whom he loves is questioned, then it is 
time to defend himself. 

Be careful. No man shall accuse me of that, I say. 
It is a lie. If you don’t like being called a liar, old 
man, you can go on.” 

Benonski’s nostrils dilate in his indignation, and he 
stands up as if to defy all the world on his assertion. 

The stranger laughs. 

“ That is the best thing I could have heard you say, 
Mr. Benonski. It leaves you then to explain why you 
advertise to deliver them up to their enemies.” 

“ I am. not obliged to explain anything to you, am 
I? ” he jeers. 

“ Yes. Obliged by your love for them. You know 
where they are. They escaped — escaped twice. I 
think I can trust you, Mr. Benonski. I did not for a 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


moment believe that you were plotting to betray them. 
But I must know why you have inserted that advertise- 
ment.” 

The old man holds out the Herald and points to 
Benonski’s advertisement. 

“Must! Do you think, then, that I am to unfold 
to you anything whatever? Did you come from Fer- 
rand Merki? He is the man for whom I am advertis- 
ing. But he would never have called my name as you 
have. I will tell you nothing.” 

“ Ferrand Merki, as you well know, perished by the 
hand of an assassin more than seven years ago. You 
are throwing dust now. Who is the person for whom 
you have advertised under that name. Is it Mr. Van- 
derveer? ” 

“ Whoever you are,” says Benonski, after a long 
pause to think, “ you evidently know about a good 
many things. Vanderveer is a coward, a sneak, and a 
villain.” 

There is a savage ring in the Russian’s voice that 
seems to amuse and please the stranger. He laughs 
softly, and replies: 

“ It may interest you to learn that Mr. Vanderveer 
is reported by his physicians to be at death’s door.” 

“ Let him die, then,” says Benonski, brutally. “ He 
isn’t fit to live.” 

“ You don’t like him, I see. Why are you advertis- 
ing for him, then? ” 

“ Pest! It is no affair of yours. I advertised for a 
better man. If he sent you here, much good may it 
do.” 

“ No one at all sent me. I came on my own ac- 
count. Now it will perhaps happen that the man for 
whom you have advertised will also come along at any 
moment. If he should, I shall then learn who it is 
without asking. How will you prevent that, Mr. Be- 
nonski ? ” 

“ Who has said that I advertised for any one? Who 
cares whether you stay or go? But if you are so inter- 
ested, why should you not make known to me your 
identity, and tell me what you are here for? ” 

“ I will. I have been ordered by Count St. Mart 


DOUBLE JEOEARDY. 


^51 

Golfi to find and arrest the traitor Alvaroff, who be- 
trayed the patriots of 1874 at the Bouski Plaza into the 
hands of the Czar’s officers and troops. I have ac- 
cepted that commission, and I, having unexpectedly 
found you, Mr. Benonski, desire you to point out their 
hiding place, and assist me in bringing them to the 
desired punishment.” 

No one could portray the astonishment of Benonski 
at hearing these most startling and audacious an- 
nouncements. He sits and stares stupidly at the old 
man as if dazed. 

” And I prophesy, Mr. Benonski,” goes on the 
stranger, “ that you will most gladly lend your aid. 
You will do it in the interests of justice and brother- 
hood.” 

-Benonski, slowly recovering his wits, says, slowly, 
but impressively: 

“If you speak seriously — then you have a little task 
that is more perilous than any you have ever under- 
taken. I myself will see to it that you, whoever you 
may be, shall be the first to regret having undertaken 
that task. My life is worth very little, but it goes for 
them. But you are speaking in riddles. If this is your 
purpose, you do ill to reveal it to me.” 

“ Not if I enlist your help.” 

“ What do you mean ? ’’ 

“ If I offered you money — enough to make you rich 
now ” 

“ Stop ! xA^nother word and I will choke you black 
in the face, old as you are,” cries the Russian, spring- 
ing to a threatening attitude. 

Again the stranger laughs — a cool, tantalizing laugh. 

“ Sit down, Mr. Benonski. We are wasting time. 
Well — not altogether, perhaps. I was willing to try 
you a little, notwithstanding my former confidence in 
you. But you can not choke me — and on the whole 
you would not if you could. What I have told you, 
however, is strictly true — and without money and with- 
out price, you, Mr. Benonski, will help me, as I have 
said. You need not protest nor deny just now. Ac- 
tion is the thing needed. Where are they hiding? If 
you love them, tell me at once. Wait! Before I ex- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


152 

pect you to tell me that, let me show you what reason 
I have for asking the questions. In the first place, let 
me tell you that Mr. Vanderveer, whose physicians do 
not let him see any one, has had a hand in planning tjie 
arrest of Alvaroff’s daughter. What do you say to 
that?” 

“ I say it is probably a lie. I myself have never be- 
lieved him as base as that. Why do you seek to de- 
ceive me with such stuff? ” 

“ I do not deceive. It is true. He and I together 
have arranged, if we can find them, to arrest them — 
and save them.” 

“ Save them ! Gold save them ? ” 

“ No ! Save them from Golfi — and all others. It 
is necessary to the success of my plans and to their 
safety and escape that T, and not any other, make this 
arrest. I will tell you how in five minutes. Sit down 
here, and keep a watch for the man for whom you ad- 
vertised, and listen while I talk.” 

The stranger sits down on the bench as an example, 
and Benonski, suspicious but curious, and beginning 
to feel a burning interest in this remarkable stranger, 
sits down also. 

“You will see very soon how fortunate it is that I 
answered this advertisement and found you. It was 
but a clue — it has developed far better than I hoped. 
Benonski, here is a plan for saving your master and 
mistress.” 

The stranger’s voice is lowered and for about ten 
minutes he pours into the Russian’s ear his plan. 
Benonski sits entranced. He feels not only the unerring 
logic of the plot, but far more the overmastering mag- 
netism of the stranger. He can not doubt that this 
man is familiar with all the history of Alvaroff and 
Brauna. 

“ This,” says the old man, as he concludes his out- 
line, “ is the road to success. They have friends. Van- 
derveer has heard. He has abandoned his marriage. 
He has accepted this method of helping them. It re- 
mains for you to do the same.” 

“ And who are you? Why do you thus propose to 
befriend them? It will be a dreadful ordeal. We 
must warn her.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDV. 


153 

Not as you love your life. Above all things, no. 
She is not to know — Alvaroff is not to know. Think 
you either of them would consent? Not for a moment. 
They would spurn the thought.” 

“ It might kill her. She is sensitive.” 

“ No. She shall live. If it should be necessary to 
her life, I myself will tell her what we must.” 

“ You. Who, then, are you?” 

“ A friend. It is I who saved them before — though 
with the rest of you I believed we had failed, and that 
the sea had swallowed them. It was I who caused 
that man Waters to put only one rascal on guard 
whom I knew could be bribed. Believe me, they are 
not without friends. Now will you take me to them? ” 

“ I have but your word. The last word is indeed 
the strongest. I thought then, and have believed ever 
since, that there was something working there at 
Graystone which did not appear. I have even believed 
that this Waters, who seems to be a very devil at times, 
might be a friend in secret.” 

“ No, no; don’t believe that! He is the most daring 
and hateful man among their enemies. He was sus- 
pected on account of their escape, and will now move 
heaven and earth to compass their seizure. That leads 
me to say that if by any chance whatever he forestalls 
me, and succeeds in making this arrest himself — as he 
certainly will if he can, you are not to fear. Whoever 
makes it, the plan will work just the same.” 

“ Yes. If I adopt it. But you have yet to show me 
that it is not all a scheme for betraying them.” 

“ In God’s name, why should I attempt that? When 
I recognized you here, why should not I have passed 
on? I had only to follow you to their nest. If I 
were an enemy do you think I would thus put my 
schemes and intentions into the hands of a man known 
to be their best friend? Look the case over, and see 
if it is not enough to convince you that I am working 
for and not against them.” 

The Russian thinks very hard, then replies: 

I accept your statement. I will adopt the plan. I 
do it, not because it pleases me, but because, some- 
how, I have a feeling it is a good plan, and ought 


1S4 


iDOtTBLE JEOPARDY. 


to succeed. I shall not be powerless to help them, nor 
to punish their enemies, if worst comes to worst. I 
know a way — I know a way — even if you are an 
enemy. It will not be a good thing for you if you 
betray them — mark that — and it will not be a fateful 
thing for them — mark that also.” 

The stranger looks at him with a new interest. 

“ You mean that you are able to save them — if it is 
necessary? ” 

“ I mean — nothing. But I accept you as a friend. 
Why will you not now inform me what and who you 
are?” 

“ I will— a little. I am a member of the Moscow 
League, as you know from the signals I have made 
since I talked here. I am also a man who has a good 
and sufficient reason to keep a sharp watch on the acts 
and even the thoughts of that man Waters. He and I 
have a little score to settle. He does not know that I 
hate him. I am heading him off constantly. I know 
all his plots in this matter, and consequently I shall be 
able if I undertake it, to defeat them. I have found 
out what his motives are, too. Alvaroff’s daughter re- 
jected him. That is the animus of all his wretched 
hatred of them. If I am as interested in defeating him 
as I am in saving them, I have a double motive — do 
you not see that? As to my name — what boots that? 
A man who must live double — befriend his friends 
and at the same time be in the secrets of their enemies, 
does well not to be too free with his name. If you de- 
sire to speak of me to any one, call me Mr. Brown.” 

“ I knew before the secret of Waters’s enmity. Al- 
varoff has enlightened me. It relieves my mind to 
know that he, of all others, is to be guarded against.” 

‘‘ And now will you be so good, Mr. Benonski, as to 
enlighten me about the advertisement? Does it, mean 
that Alvaroff wishes to communicate with friends? ” 

“ Alvaroff knows nothing about that matter.” 

“Ah! You work without his confidence, Mr. Be- 
nonski? ” 

“ Perhaps. But there was no harm in it.” 

“ Everything is harm that might threaten to betray 
their hiding-place. Tell me frankly what it means.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDV. 


15S 


In spite of all his caution, Benonski has slowly 
yielded to the magnetism of this stranger. His voice 
when he speaks is like a soft flute, and yet as strong 
as a voice of command. The piercing eyes entrance 
yet master him. He can not explain the singular 
fascination that has thrown over him a spell so potent 
that under it he has resolved to take this man into con- 
fidence and reveal to him the hiding-place of his loved 
ones, and enter upon the scheme proposed for their 
escape. And when now the old man smiles with such 
a winning expression, and yet with such power in 
his look, Benonski replies to him, impulsively: 

“ I advertised for Ferrand Merki. You see that in 
the wording, do you not?” 

“ You play blindman’s buff with me, Mr. Benon- 
ski. Merki can not answer. Or perhaps you have 
been consulting the mediums. By the rights of a sound 
theology taught by the Greek Church, Merki is doubt- 
less in hell.” 

“ I thought so, too. Mr. Brown, did you ever hear 
of a man who is in hell taking a walk on Broadway 
at ten o’clock in the forenoon?” 

“ On my word I never did. It is not incredible that 
some who should be there walk Broadway almost 
any fine forenoon.” 

Mr. Brown laughs softly and waits for more. 

“ But not men who have been dead for more than 
seven years — think you? ” 

“ No. What do you mean? ” 

” That I saw Ferrand Merki walk there three days 
since — as God hears me.” 

You have been dreaming,” says Mr, Brown. 


CHAPTER XXIL 

DID YOU COME IN ANSWER TO THIS? ” 

When the letters of Valond suddenly stopped, and 
nothing could be heard of him by mail or wire, Merki 
feared that something had slipped, and sent Ruoff and 
another subordinate to investigate. They brought 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


156 

back the report that Valond had disappeared, that his 
boat had been found on the other side of the Sound 
adrift, that the fugitives had not been seen since. The 
fisherman where they had found shelter professed to 
know nothing, save that his guests had gone back to 
New York. He could not even furnish their address. 
He was dumb and cunning. The prisoners had un- 
doubtedly escaped — through what blundering of Va- 
lond or through what misfortune, Merki could not tell. 

But as Valond did not turn up, he was obliged to go 
to Golfi with the news. He was encouraged by Golfi, 
who declared that sooner or later they would un- 
doubtedly be discovered. To spur on the search, 
Golfi privately named to the most trustworthy of his 
men a liberal reward for their discovery. Merki, who 
had no purpose in the world except to keep shady and 
await the results of his search, retired to obscure lodg- 
ings on the east side, and showed himself only for a 
short walk now and then. He did not fear to be 
recognized, as he knew of no one who would be likely 
to identify him. 

He was properly astonished, then, when he saw 
in the morning paper the advertisement which Be- 
nonski had inserted. He at once, on thinking a little, 
attributed it to Valond. He believed that the spy had 
turned up safely, and was perhaps afraid to come back 
to him without first feeling the way. Very likely Va- 
lond has some clue, and will aid him to find the fugi- 
tives. 

Accordingly he answered the advertisement. 

On this Saturday, according to his appointment, 
not thinking it important even to disguise himself, so 
certain is he that he will find no one more dangerous 
than Valond, he repairs to the vicinity of City Hall 
Square to keep the appointment. Unlike Benonski 
he is not early — in fact, he is about ten minutes late. 

Benonski is still in the midst of his vehement asser- 
tions relating to the stranger, how he had seen the 
man who had been thought dead, when Merki himself 
appears, crossing the park straight toward them. 

“ Look! Look now! He is coming at this instant. 
He has seen the advertisement.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


157 


Mr. Brown looks and catches his breath sharply. 

“Ah!” he says, in a low tone. “There is some- 
thing strange here. If that is not Ferrand Merki, then 
it is a miracle we look upon. Do not stare — do not 
look at him, Mr. Benonski. This may be more im- 
portant than I have believed. But allow me to talk to 
him. It is most astonishing.” 

Merki by this time is very near. He inspects the 
figures on the bench to determine whether either of 
them might not be Valond in some disguise. But he 
decides at once that they are both much larger men 
than Valond. They are only there by chance, he 
thinks. He will wait a little. He sits down on a 
bench near at hand, and looks all around, hoping to 
see Valond somewhere. 

“ Excuse me,” says Mr. Brown, rising, and ap- 
proaching Merki. “ But did you come in answer to 
this? ” 

He points to the paper with the advertisement. 

“ Yes. And who, pray, are you? Did Valond send 
you?” 

“ Valond is not here, though,” says Mr. Brown, 
vaguely, feeling his way along. “ But if you would 
like to see him, perhaps I could bring it about.” 

Mr. Brown has guessed from the single question of 
Merki several things. He has guessed that Valond, 
whoever he may be, would not have been expected here 
unless Merki thought him the advertiser. He also 
guesses that Valond may be some one who would be 
supposed to know something about the fugitives. 

“ If you represent him, then,” says Merki, feeling 
sure that this is Valond’s work, “perhaps you will 
tell me why he is not here himself. He knows that I 
would not harm him — especially if he has news.” 

“ Perhaps you would give your assurances of that,” 
says Mr. Brown, seeing yet more light on the situa- 
tion. “ Valond has no relish for being punished.” 

He shoots this last arrow at a venture, not knowing 
how accurately he has hit the mark. But he is gratified 
to hear Merki reply: 

“The idiot! Why should I punish him? If he 
atones for letting Alvaroff slip by telling me where 
he is, that makes it far more than even.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


158 

‘‘ I know all that story,” says Mr. Brown, boasting- 
ly. “ Valond did not let them slip. At least, he is not 
confessing to anything. But perhaps he can tell where 
they are, all the same. But he thinks it just as safe to 
send me on ahead to find out how you are feeling to- 
ward him. He will appear when he thinks it en- 
tirely safe. Why do you say he let the fugitives slip? ” 

“ He did let them slip, of course. Alvaroff out- 
witted him some way, I suppose. I was uncertain 
whether he was hiding through fear, or whether he 
had been set upon and finished by that desperate trai- 
tor. To tell the truth I have been glad ever since seeing 
this advertisement, for I know he is still alive. Valond 
is a valuable fellow, and I should be sorry to lose him. 
He has confided in you, I see. Perhaps you are 
worthy of that. What is your name? ” 

“ There is nothing without Liberty,” says Mr. 
Brown, cunningly. “ I can give you as many signals 
as you give me. I also read the cipher very well.” 

“ I assumed as much. Valond would hardly trust a 
man who could not. Where is Valond?” 

“ Where I can produce him when he feels like show- 
ing himself. After the traitor and his daughter are 
surrendered by his information, then he will think that 
you have less cause to be angry and will walk in on 
you as large as ever.” 

“ What about the boat? Was that his work — or 
did he really get into some scrape? It was found 
away over in Connecticut. Ruoff could get no further 
clue of Valond. I had a slight idea he might have 
been drowned.” 

“ Valond was not born to be drowned. He is more 
likely to be hanged. But he lost all his money.” 

“ Oh, that is the game, then, is it? He wants to 
bargain with me. How much does the rascal de- 
mand for his information?” 

Mr. Brown puts on a cunning look, and replies, 
slowly: 

Oh, no! Valond would not do that. But if you 
were disposed to lend him — say a hundred dollars to 
buy him some clothes — he spoiled a good suit, you 
see — perhaps it would make him work quicker and 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 1 59 

feel more cheerful. He says that you will make 
enough out of the matter not to miss it.” 

“ The greedy rascal. He will extort, will he? Very 
well. When I know the place where I can put my 
hand on Alvaroff and his daughter, he shall have the 
hundred — and a new suit besides.” 

“ And you will forget that Alvaroff outwitted him? ” 

“ As true as I live, I will never hear of it. Why 
should I? You can tell him that, on the word of a man 
who never promised Valond anything he did not get 
— not even a drubbing.” 

The cat laughs, showing his fang-like teeth. He is 
pleased beyond measure at thus hearing of Valond’s 
escape, and with the prospect of finding his prey. 

“ But if you were to send Valond his money now 
by me! Well, he would think your sincerity entirely 
beyond question. In that case, I think I could promise 
that you should see him in this very place, if you come 
with several good men on Monday about noon. He 
would take you directly to the place where they are.” 

Merki looks sharply at Mr. Brown, but he can not 
see how there can be any error in this matter. Surely 
no one who had not come from Valond could have 
shown himself so familiar with the matter which Va- 
land has so badly bungled. 

Taking some bills from his pocket, he counts out 
fifty dollars. 

“ Give Valond this now, and tell him for me that 
he shall have the remainder when he shows himself 
on Monday. Will you come with him? ” 

“ Be sure I shall be here. I am interested. Valond 
will come too. He is more anxious to redeem him- 
self than you are to see him.” 

Mr. Brown takes the money, saying “ Good day,” 
as he saunters toward the Ferry, while Merki walks 
away in the direction of Murray Street. 

Benonski, who has witnessed this interview in silent 
astonishment, and has followed the stranger, breaks 
out, as soon as they are well beyond earshot of Merki : 

“ You knew, then, that Merki is alive? Why did 
you try to deceive me?” 

Not so, Mr. Benonski! I was startled to see this 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


i6o 

man — startled more by the close resemblance to Fer- 
rand Merki. I almost was ready to believe your own 
theory that he has escaped from Hades, and is wander- 
ing about the earth again. But I have changed my 
mind. That man is not Ferrand Merki.” 

Why do you say that? You yourself have just 
been talking with him as if you knew him to be Merki. 
What in heaven’s name is your purpose, and how did 
you know about Valond, whoever he may be? ” 

“ I know only what you know. That was revealed 
to me by the man himself while we talked together. I 
guess now that this Valond whom this unknown 
thinks to have been the author of your personal in the 
Herald, is some fellow of his whom he sent after Alva- 
roff, when it was learned that Alvaroff was alive. His 
words gave me a clue to guess that Valond made 
some failure and had not since turned up, and that 
his master believes that he now has information. It 
was simple enough when you think of it. But that was 
not Ferrand Merki.” 

“ He, and no other. Why should you say that? 
Who else would be hunting them down? It is Merki, 
of course.” 

“ I have been through with the whole case, Mr. Be- 
nonski. Ferrand Merki died and was buried. It was 
impossible that he should have survived. Therefore 
this can not be Merki.” 

Benonski shakes his head. He was not convinced 
in the least. 

“ You recognized him. You know therefore how 
Merki looks. But you may not have as much reason 
to remember him as I have. I say this is Merki. No 
matter how many miracles it involves — I shall never 
believe otherwise.” 

“ Suit yourself. It is not now important. I shall 
know when ! set myself to the task of finding out. The 
matter is just as mysterious to me as it is to you. But 
I am as certain that Ferrand Merki is dead as you are 
that he is alive. But we have more important matters 
now for a little. It is your duty now to save Alvaroff 
and more yet to save his daughter from this man and 
from any others who may be hunting for them. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


l6l 


And now, Mr. Benonski, as it is necessary for me to be 
in another place, I must leave you. Before I do, you 
v/ill nam.e the place where the arrest can be made.” 

“ I will do it, but if harm comes to them through this 
word of mine you will not escape the punishment that 
I have in store for you. If you go to Number 602 
Eighty-second Street I will be there with them to-mor- 
row at four.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

I GUARD, MYSELF, THIS TIME.” 

Has Benonski been indiscreet? Who knows? What 
madnesses have not men committed under the spell 
of stronger minds? Benonski, with his reason, blames 
himself for revealing to this stranger the hiding-place 
of the fugitives, but every moment his reason is baf- 
fled and defeated by his recurrent and unanswerable 
assertion: “ I have a feeling.” And who does not know 
that before the feeling, giving us the certainties of con- 
viction, reason is for ever going to the wall? Be- 
sides, Benonski has a refuge. He believes that he has 
it in his power to save them by a desperate device, 
which for all these seven years has been before him as a 
possibility to l)e considered. 

Yet he almost fears to meet his master after what 
he has done, but on the following day braces himself 
for the climax that has been planned. He is feverish 
and doubtful, justifying himself one minute for enter- 
ing into a plan to save his loved ones, and cursing him- 
self the next for having exposed them to danger. He 
is comforted a good deal by the reflection that Alvar- 
off has made up his mind to face and end the danger if 
they are again arrested, and Benonski hopes that in 
this resolution they may both be able to bear the or- 
deal to which they are now to be subjected. 

At about two o’clock he starts, groaning inwardly, 
for the house where they are. When they greet him 
gladly, in their old affable grace, toned by the sadness 
imparted to them by their trials, Benonski can hardly 


i 62 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


keep the tears from falling, and becomes heartily sick 
of the whole business. He almost resolved to con- 
fess his great mistake, and urge them again to flee be- 
fore it is too late. 

You seem troubled, Benonski,” says his master, 
kindly. ‘‘ I hope you have heard nothing unpleasant.” 

“ Nothing to speak about,” says Benonski, stam- 
mering guiltily. But he must carry the matter off, 
so he adds: ‘‘ Only a little low spirited. It is seeing 
the dead man, I think.” 

“ I advise you to drive that out of your mind, Be- 
nonski. I have reflected upon that matter, and what 
you surmise is literally impossible. I wish to ask 
your opinion about a certain matter. I have been con- 
ferring with Brauna, and we are agreed. But I have 
ever counted your judgment good, Benonski. The 
life we are obliged now to live is not to our liking. We 
have cast up the chances. The law is not unerring. 
Evidence is not always convincing. Brauna has de- 
clared that a trial in the courts will have as little terror 
as this life of a suspect and a fugitive from justice. 
Therefore we are seriously contemplating a surrender 
to the authorities. If the result is unfavorable — well, 
we are not without experience. Experience teaches 
men how to endure the gravest misfortunes — even the 
greatest injustice. We can exhaust all the known re- 
sources of the machinery of the law to save her. The 
risk is not worse than our present situation. What 
do you say to such a plan? ” 

Benonsid’s heart grows lighter. The terror of his 
scheme had been taken away. Alvaroff himself is 
proposing the very thing that he is assisting to bring 
about. He reflects a moment, then replies, gravely: 

'' I have often thought of that. But until recently 
I have not dared to think it in the least advisable. 
Your enemies are so powerful and so merciless! But 
as you have said, it is but little worse than to be hunted 
forever. Perhaps something will intervene in your fav- 
or. At the worst they shall never have her for a prey. 
Benonski says so.” 

Ugly Benonski looks almost beautiful to them as he 
says this, so resolute and strong is his face and atti- 
tude. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


163 


“ You advise this course then? ” asks Alvaroff. 

“ Master, I know not what to say. Whatever you 
do, you know well that I am with you.” 

“ We will think of it a little more. If it is done 
it will be well to secure the best attorneys for the de- 
fense, and put my affairs in order. They will not 
.stop with her, Benonski.” 

” No. They are striking at you. If this is Golfi’s 
work then he is aiming to torture you first and kill you 
later. Guard yourself from assassins, my master.” 

” That I fear not at all. Were I able to prove who 
is the man that killed Ferrand Merki, then Golfi 
might fume until doomsday. Besides, I do not de- 
spair of convincing him that I had nothing to do with 
the offense with which he charges me. There is some 
one at the door. Who, I wonder? ” 

As Alvaroff is speaking, the door bell rings, and in a 
moment voices are heard in the hall. Alvaroff is 
startled because he has given strict orders that no one 
is to be admitted. 

But before they can make a move either to ascertain 
the cause of the intrusion or to flee from any possible 
peril, the climax that Benonski has anticipated is upon 
them. No — not as he has planned by any means, after 
all. He, too, is startled at hearing the sounds in the 
hall. He has appointed the hour of four with Mr. 
Brown, and it is now but three. But he has no time to 
reflect upon it. The door is flung open, and there be- 
fore them, with his old cold, impenetrable smile, stands 
— ^John Waters! 

Ah ! Our information is correct, I see,” he says, 
abruptly. “ Sergeant, there are the parties. You will 
both count yourselves to be under arrest. You too, 
Benonski. You are aiding them to escape. That 
ought to mean two years, at least.” 

He looks around the room with an air of triumph. 

'' It is well, Benonski,” says Alvaroff, glancing at his 
daughter to be sure she was bearing the surprise 
calmly too. “ You seem to be assiduous in your pur- 
suit, Number 66. Some men remember their disap- 
pointments a long time. But you will now have a 
very good chance to even up the score, W^ will fol- 
low you,” 


164 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ There is a carriage at the door,” says Waters, 
sharply. “ You will therefore come at once. I guard, 
mvseli, this time. There will be no more Godby af- 
fairs. Go before, Martin. If necessary, you know 
what to do in case of any attempt to escape. You will 
be ready. Remember.” 

•‘Ah! Do not think I shall give you that advan- 
tage,” says Alvaroff. “ I well know how welcome my 
death would be in certain quarters. Therefore, be 
sure I shall not give you the excuse for accom- 
plishing it. We shall not attempt to escape, sir. Lead 
the way.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

I WILL WAIT UNTIL SHE GOES TO PRISON.” 

“ A Seven Year Old Crime.” — Yesterday the 
Grand Jury found an indictment upon an old coroner’s 
finding, against a woman named Brauna Alvaroff, or 
Merki, for murder in the first degree. The woman is 
supposed to be the Russian adventuress who figured in 
the police annals at the time of the murder, and is now 
charged with having murdered her husband, one Fer- 
rand Merki, in an old house in Waverley Place, since 
destroyed by fire. The trial is set down for next week 
by an agreement of the defense and prosecution to 
have it advanced on the calendar.” 

Franqois’s card comes up to Blanche early in the 
day upon which this item appeared in the morning 
papers, that gentleman himself presently following it. 

“Ah! The devil is to pay, Dodo,” he says, for- 
getting his usual politeness to her, as he enters. “ I 
have feared as much. See this? ” 

“ Never address me by that name again,” com- 
mands the young lady, imperiously. “ I am Blanche 
Evanston,” she adds, as she reads the news, keeping 
her self-possession as she goes on: “ Yes. It is the 
devil very likely. He was ever a very disagreeable in- 
dividual. He will see it sooner or later. Our way is 


DOUBLE JEOBARDY. 


i^S 

not so clear as it seemed once, dear Fran<;ois/’ she 
drawls. “ She is in limbo, then! That is better than 
to have her at large, if he were to find her out. But 
he is too sick to be told anything now.” 

“ What do you hear? ” 

“ He is no better. I have a note from Brill every 
morning. I should have one by this time. It is not 
so bad, after all. By the time he recovers, if he does 
recover, she may be hanged, or in Sing Sing. That 
leaves him to me again. I think I can console him. 
She has been a long time now out of his sight, and this 
trial will hopelessly disgrace her. A man like Van- 
derveer wears out in his devotion easier than some. 
He is worth waiting for, is he not? ” 

'' Par dicii! He will die — or he will return to her. 
We might better look for easier game. Besides — it is 
not quite our policy to stay forever in one place. Some 
one might be from Paris, and meet you or me on the 
street. Have you ever thought of that? ” 

“ So you are nervous, are you? Look out, mon- 
sieur! It is a sign you are growing old. I give up 
the adorable Vanderveer? Never. I will marry him 
yet. What has become of your fine luck that you have 
boasted of so much all your life? Don’t be a fool 
now.” , 

She is as cool and placid as ever, even while her 
heart is like a raging fire to hear that there is now 
almost a certainty that Vanderveer will hear that her 
rival lives. 

“ You are too fine by half. Miss — Miss Evanston,” 
he sneers, “with your talk about the Vanderveer. I 
for one hope he will die soon and end the whole busi- 
ness. I have lost interest in him since he took it in 
his head to be so very sick.” 

There is a tinge of irony in d’Avigne’s tone that 
Blanche interprets, and she asks, with a shade of 
anxiety: 

“ What does that mean? You do not think there is 
anything more to it? ” 

“ I only say that it is a queer time to get sick. Have 
you heard from Godby’s housemaid? She ought to 
find out.” 


i66 


fiOtTBLfi JfioMRGV. 


“ Nothing new. She has reported to Pierre that no 
one is admitted to his room save the physician and 
his sister. She has peeped and spied — but to no pur- 
pose. Pierre agrees with me that he is as sick as they 
pretend.” 

“ Pierre and you agree a great deal lately, I observe,” 
says her companion, with a little gesture of disdain. 
“ You will fare better with your schemes if you call 
me in earlier.” 

“Jealous Monsieur d’Avigne. To be sure! Since 
you began to be so cross, Pierre is much more agree- 
able to me. Some day we mean to disappear together 
and leave you disconsolate. It is all arranged.” 

“ Excellent! Go soon, by all means. I will furnish 
the means cheerfully. I have for a long time noticed 
how you love each other.” 

Blanche laughs and flirts her eyes at him, and coaxes 
him into a better mood. 

At this juncture Anise, the maid, enters with letters. 
Blanche selects one in a hand familiar, and tearing it 
open, reads hastily, as she sets her teeth hard together. 
Presently she smiles; then reads aloud: 

“ Dear Miss Evanston: We are happy to inform you 
that Mr. Vanderveer is better. By my orders, to es- 
cape the noise of the street, which seems to disturb him 
badly, he has been carefully removed to the Jersey 
hills. He will communicate through his sister in a few 
days, and when able will be happy to receive a visit 
from you. Respectfully, 

“ A. M. Brill.” 

“ What is bad about that, pray? ” demands 
d’Avigne. 

“Stupid! It means that he has already heard. Men 
do not get well so quickly. I was mistaken. He is a 
coward, and dares not face me. If there were only 
sickness of course a man well enough to ride to Jersey 
would be well enough to see his affianced wife — es- 
pecially after such a breaking off of a wedding. It is 
all plain. What then? Why this: I will wait until she 
goes to prison — or worse — and begin again. Mean- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 167 

while, if you think it safer, we can change our loca- 
tion.” 

“ Mon Dieu! I believe you are right. He is play- 
ing the coward. I could advise him if I chose, that 
such a course is very wise. But it is not exactly the 
course that suits our plans. True — we would better 
disappear for a little time. After this affair of the in- 
terrupted marriage you will have a good excuse to 
visit your dear papa in Chicago. Why not? Harlem 
or Brooklyn is either of them a pleasant quarter of 
Chicago — and quite a little nearer to New York. As 
for me, that no one may say that I ran off with you, 
I will go a few days sooner. Then, if you still mean 
to follow this adventure up, we can watch matters at 
our convenience. We will try to be at this famous 
trial next week. Meanwhile I think I will circulate 
the news privately that this ‘ Russian adven- 
turess ’ is not a stranger in New York — in fact, is none 
other than ” 

“ Bah! Don't be that stupid, Franqois. Will not Van- 
derveer know the first instant who did it? Everybody 
else thinks her dead. Nobody else knows that her 
name is Alvaroff. I know; and he knows that I know. 
On the contrarv, I expect the time to come when I can 
display my sweet and beautiful forbearance and mag- 
nanimity by reminding him how I have shielded her 
from the gossips. Let Miss Carrington, of Graystone, 
rest in the sea. This ‘ Russian adventuress ’ may be 
disposed of by the law, and then no one can blame me 
for anything. Who can ever prove the letters? ” 

“ I can,” he replies, softly. 

“ Do not flatter yourself. Vanderveer would never 
believe a disappointed rival.” 

She laughs, and shrugs her shoulders, defiantly. 

“ But I will show him the letter. I have it, vou re- 
call.” 

“ And he will ask why you stole it and withheld it. 
And I shall give a very good reason why you did. I 
shall say that you intended to use it at the last minute, 
or some other good lie. I can outlie you beyond all 
doubt, my love.” 

“ I can not deny it,” says d’Avigne, dryly, “ For a 


i68 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


woman who has resolved henceforth to tell nothing but 
the truth you are doing very well.” 

Bah! You know nothing about it. You have 
never discovered a fragment of my resources in that 
direction. But, tell me — what more do you know 
about the arrest — and the trial? ” 

“ I have seen Godby. He assures me that it was 
done Sunday in some uptown house where they were 
hiding. They were simple to come back here.” 

“ Not so very simple. We are here.” 

“ But this isn’t Paris.” 

“ But we will go back to Paris after a time. Who 
hunted them out? Those dreadful Nihilists, no doubt. 
Her husband, whom she murdered, was a Nihilist.” 

“ It was the same man who hunted them down be- 
fore. Watson, was it? ” 

“ Waters. Frangois, I am afraid of that man. He 
knew at once that night that Godby was a Frenchman. 
He also knew there was something between Pierre and 
me. He has eyes like Ruel’s. There was something 
strange about him and about that whole aflair that I 
did not understand. I have often thought that he 
might be the one who let them escape. But what 
matters it since they are found? Let them take the 
chances. If Pierre is half right about it, they will 
neither of them escape.” 

“ No. Probably not. These Russians are too vin- 
dictive.” 

“ That I believe, as much as I hope it.” 

“ What will Vanderveer do — the craven? ” 

“ Do not forget that I have destined him for a hus- 
band. Think you I would actually marry a craven? ” 

“ Certainly — if he had money; if I told you to do it; 
if the marriage were to be a crozs between a farce and 
a robbery.” 

He twirls his mustache and laughs softly at her. 

“ I do not think it important to be angry with you. 
Vanderveer is a god, and that I will maintain. What 
will he do? Play the hero, no doubt. He is just that 
sentimental. He will do all he can to save her, and 
when he fails, he will come back to me. It may take 
a little tkne — but we have time enough. The trial 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


169 


will be here so soon, the matter ought to be finished 
early. Besides — well, I learn through Pierre that she 
will not be permitted to live, whatever the courts do. 
The Nihilists have marked them both for destruction. 
The delightful Nihilists! I mean to join them myself.” 

Monsieur d’Avigne does not make a very long call 
to-day, being quite busy with some little matters he 
does not mention to his fair confederate. 

This very afternoon Blanche writes the following 
letter to her affianced: 

“ Dear Mr. Vanderveer: It is with astonishment 
that I find it impossible to describe that I have read 
in the morning papers the inclosed account. In 
mingled hope and grief I herewith return you the ring 
you gave me and some other slight tokens of your 
regard. My hope is founded on the chance that she 
may escape this new danger which she has returned 
from the dead to meet. While I believed her in heaven 
I was permitted to cherish a happiness that I shall 
never know again, in a love that I must not now even 
name. Oh, my lost one! You will return to her. 
She was first in your heart, and my heart tells me that 
now she has returned, you will find your duty and your 
joy in moving heaven and earth for her rescue. You 
have misjudged me if you believed that I would not 
understand, and have for that reason hidden away from 
me. I have laid away the beautiful dresses, and with 
them my heart. Let us be friends, and if I can serve 
you or her, believe me my heart’s blood will be given 
without a pang. If I suffer, you ought to know me 
well enough to believe that I shall not display my suf- 
fering, and shall know how to satisfy society if ques- 
tions become annoying. I have buried in my heart 
the secret of her identity, which the reports do not, as 
you see, reveal, and we may be able to shield from the 
knowledge of our common friends the truth as we 
know it. 

“ I shall retire from the world a little and be with 
dear papa in Chicago, while I think on the beautiful 
past as a dream too good to endure in this world of 
many disappointments. If you see fit to answer this. 


1^0 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


a letter addressed to the old number will be forwarded 
to me. “ Your friend, 

“ Blanche Evanston.” 

A master stroke indeed! She is not the woman to 
wait for circumstances to corner her. She takes the 
offensive instantly. She will disarm all suspicion by 
this course. He will never believe after this that she 
has seen the letters. He will never doubt that she is a 
wronged and saddened woman, as noble as she seems. 
She sends the letter, and then, before the day is gone, 
flits out of sight like a vanishing sunbeam, to weave 
her webs in a securer place. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

‘‘ STOP HIM, FOR god’s SAKE.” 

It is the day fixed for Brauna’s trial for the murder 
of her husband, Ferrand Merki. Mr. Knowlton, the 
prosecuting attorney, is an unimaginative and literal- 
minded man of great precision, and utterly devoid of 
feeling. No detail escapes him. In a moderately 
strong case he is unequaled in the skill with which 
he marshals and correlates his evidence. On the other 
hand, he has little ability in an appeal to the feelings 
of jurors, and no great amount of skill in detecting the 
prevarications of witnesses. Evidence is all of one 
kind with him. A fact is simply a fact, and no more, 
but on the cold facts alone he has won about all the 
cases he has ever touched. 

Up to the moment when the case is called, it is re- 
garded as commonplace, merely some ordinary foreign 
adventuress, who is to be tried. The prisoner is 
thickly veiled, and sits quietly beside Mr. Bliss, the 
leading attorney for the defense. There is in the 
courtroom only the idle and motley crowd that ordi- 
narily can be depended upon to be present at a murder 
trial. After calling the name of the case the clerk of 
the court requests the defendant to step into the pris- 


bOtJBLE JEOBAkDV. 


t^t 

oner’s box. As she does so Branna raises her veil and 
there is a little murmer of astonishment, and from that 
moment there is an increase of interest in the trial. 

Even the judge — a man of mature years and keen 
observation — stares at the apparition of loveliness with 
a growing sense of the importance of this case. He has 
supposed from the accounts that he should see some 
hard-faced virago with a Russian accent. But he sees at 
once that she is as refined as she is beautiful, and that the 
case will be full of difficulty. He has experience enough 
with criminals to be aware that crime may hide even 
under a fair exterior, but if judges may indulge their 
feelings, then perhaps Judge Wickwire, of the Su- 
perior Court, finds it difficult to believe that this 
saintly and beautiful woman is a murderess. Never- 
theless, when he has recovered himself, he orders the 
crier and police officer to seat the spectators farther 
from the rail, taking the time meanwhile to write some 
minutes in his journal. Then he signifies to the prose- 
cuting attorney that the court is ready to proceed. Mr. 
Knowlton rises, as little affected by the appearance of 
the prisoner as if she had been a wooden statue, and 
opens the case. He produces the coroner’s finding on 
which the indictment has been found, relates briefly 
the crime as therein set forth, tells of the two escapes 
in the most literal and undramatic way, and then, with 
a trifle more of life, goes on to outline the case which 
the State expects to prove. As he carefully states this 
the power of the man begins to be seen. He has a 
chain of facts, and with facts he is at home. When he 
has woven it together in his opening speech, and 
trained the focus against the prisoner, it almost seems 
to the listener, uninterested, that the jury might safely 
convict without hearing the evidence. Mr. Knowlton 
concludes with a short speech of warning to the jury, 
assuring them that the facts alone are to be put for- 
ward here, and that upon these they are to convict this 
woman. They were not to consider her sex, because 
the law makes no distinction. They were not to be 
moved by any appeals to their feelings. If the facts 
proved her guilty, as they surely do, then their duty 
is clear to them. He pauses, and in a moment, turning 
to the court, he says, abruptly : 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ I will now call Michael Ruoff.” 

Ruoff, a sleek, thin fellow in black, looking as much 
like a priest as a valet, takes the stand with a great air 
of importance. 

After the usual oath and the preliminary questions 
as to name, age, and the like, Mr. Knowlton says: 

“ Do you know the prisoner at the bar? ” 

“ Very well. Yes, sir.” 

“ State when you saw her last.” 

“ Seven years ago. It was the fourteenth day of 
June, about four in the afternoon.” 

How do you remember that so exactly?” 

” On account of the murder, sir.” 

“ What occurred at that time? First, where did you 
see the prisoner? ” 

“ At her home in Waverley Place.” 

“State what occurred at that time?” 

“ I was in the court behind the house, with another 
person who is now dead. I was in the employ at that 
time of Ferrand Merki, who was murdered.” 

“ How long had you been in his employ? ” 

“ About four years.” 

“ In this country? ” 

“ In Russia. I am a Russian by nativity.” 

“ So you have said. Go on. You were in the 
court ” 

“ I heard an outcry, and the sound of some struggle 
within the house. We ran in at once. I was ahead. 
When we reached the upper room over the sitting- 
room we saw the prisoner.” 

“ Go on. You saw the prisoner ” 

“ She had in her hand a stiletto. This is the weap- 
on.” 

At that moment an officer holds up the same little 
stiletto with which Ferrand Merki had been slain seven 
years ago. Brauna seeing it, grows sick and pants in 
horror. AlvarofI, sitting close to the dock, gives her 
a little bottle of smelling salts, and she represses her 
feelings as quickly as possible. The witness, under the 
questioning of Mr. Knowlton, and without interrup- 
tion by the defense, goes on to describe the room and 
its situation, and to state that they — he and his com- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


173 


panion — had seized the prisoner just as shi was 
finishing her crime with the stiletto in her hand, which 
she had but barely drawn out from the dying man’s 
side. 

Mr. Bliss then takes the witness in hand, and suc- 
ceeds in confusing him some, and in drawing out his 
connection and that of Merki with certain Russian Ni- 
hilists; but there is no essential shaking of his testi- 
mony. 

Link by link the chain weaves itself. As it nears 
the demonstration of a finished case, before the day is 
gone, there are those in the courtroom, now nearly 
full of people who have been attracted to the afternoon 
session by the reports that have crept abroad of the 
beauty of the prisoner, who looked on with ghoulish 
satisfaction. 

Well back in the crowd near the door are two men 
who now and then exchange glances and remarks at 
every point made by the prosecution. Count St. Mart 
Golfi and Ferrand Merki, both in slight disguise, watch 
the progress of the trial with breathless interest. Golfi 
sees in the chair near the prisoner’s dock the man to 
whom he believes he owes his sufferings in Siberia. 
He glowers out under his heavy brows at this calm 
figure, wishing to grasp him by the throat. Merki, on 
the other hand, looks most of the time at Brauna, not- 
ing the incomparable beauty of her face and the royalty 
of her air. Both men see her doom in the steady ac- 
cumulation of the testimony. The cross-examinations 
of the defense seem listless and inadequate, and relate 
mostly to unimportant details. Golfi in a low tone 
says to Merki, as the case is about concluded for the 
prosecution : 

She will be convicted. If she is, there will be a 
plea for leniency. The judge is likely to heed it. If 
the jury convict her they will recommend her to mercy. 
They will then send her up for life. What is your plan 
then? ” 

“ Sing Sing is not so far from Jane Street, Count. 
I have set some strings a pulling. She will not reach 
any prison alive. She will be remanded to custody un- 
til she can be taken away. I know the very men who 
will be near her.” 


174 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Work your own purposes, Merki. It is the man, 
not the woman, who will feel my hand. The testimony 
is concluded. They will adjourn now until to-mor- 
row.” 

“ Not so. The judge is calling the defense. And, 
by heaven, they will put Vanderveer on the stand. 
Here he is, too.” 

In another part of the room two figures, sitting 
on the benches, silent and watchful save now and then 
a low word, have been observing the trial from its 
opening. They, too, are in disguise. They are Blanche 
and Franqois. With a heart of flint, Blanche hears 
the whole dreadful testimony that weaves its deadly 
web around her rival. She has a brain as keen as that 
of any lawyer in all that courtroom, and is able to 
weigh with unerring accuracy the bearings of the case 
for the prosecution, like a skilled expert in law. Her 
penetrative apprehension is quickened and re-enforced 
by her hatreds and her fears. 

“They will convict, they will convict!” she says, 
under her breath, when she sees the chain at last nearly 
complete. Franqois shrugs his shoulders in the true 
Parisian fashion, replying, grimly: 

“ Let them. I shall not prevent. But they do not 
change my mind. The fools will never stop to see that 
against such a woman evidence becomes absurd. Be- 
sides — no one saw her strike. Bah! There is noth- 
ing m.ore stupid than a jury.” 

“ You are in love with her on first sight. That I 
clearly see. A murderess! They should make you a 
witness. You would tell them how impossible it is for 
a saint with such a face to do so indiscreet a thing as 
kill her husband.” 

Franqois laughs, and at that moment the prosecuting 
attorney announces that the evidence for the State 
rests. 

Then begins one of the strangest scenes ever wit- 
nessed in a courtroom — though but few present com- 
prehended its full meaning. 

“By heavens, they are calling Vanderveer,” says 
Blanche, catching her breath and shutting her teeth. 
“ What is that for, I wonder? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


175 


The first witness for the defense! 

As he comes out of the crowd he is pale and dig- 
nified. But he does not look as if he had been so 
deathly sick as Dr. Brill has reported. He appears so 
suddenly where he has not been before observed that 
Francois says, in some consternation: 

It is some scheme to save here, I will wager my 
life on it.” 

“ I never bet unless against something of value,” re- 
torts Blanche. It has ever been her cue not to share 
any fears that Frangois may express. She has thus 
kept his admiration of her as a woman of nerve at its 
level. 

But her heart seems to stop nevertheless, and she 
fixes her eyes on the witness as he slowly walks out and 
takes the stand. 

“ Your name? ” questions the court, after the oath 
has been administered. 

” Flarris Lincoln Vanderveer.” 

The prisoner, seeing him before her — this man 
whom she believes to be the husband of another wo- 
man — for Brauna and her father are still in ignorance 
of the postponement of his wedding — with her soul 
in her face grows as pale as marble, and her heaving 
breath is like the labor of a pent-up agony. 

Why does he come here? She can bear all the rest. 
Her soul has been calm and strong, and she has faced 
death without a break of her resolutions and without 
a tear in her eyes. But this ordeal she has not antici- 
pated, and for it she is not prepared. 

Alvaroff, glancing at his daughter, sees her pallor, 
and notes her pang of emotion. He, too, is astounded 
that the defense should bring to the stand as the first 
witness in this case this man who has made for them 
more anguish than all their perils. To her and to him 
Vanderveer has become but a torturing memory to be 
lived down. They both had hoped never again to look 
upon his false face. 

But he is here! He does not look at her. He stu- 
diously avoids her eyes. He remains perfectly calm 
resting his hand upon the court Bible as if leaning for 
support in a heavy duty. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


176 

“ Your Honor,” says Mr. Bliss, quietly, and with 
an air of importance, “ we have not thought it neces- 
sary to outline the course of defense. We will rely 
upon the testimony of this witness to clear our client, 
corroborated by several who will follow him, merely 
to supply a few details that he will not be able to fur- 
nish. There is a very good reason why we have adopted 
an unusual course. We might indeed have saved your 
Honor the time consumed by the prosecution in this 
case by a different course, but we preferred that our 
client should have the advantage of the full immunity 
from all farther prosecution, not to say persecution, 
such as accrues to a person who has been tried and ac- 
quitted. As we take this course, it may be proper to 
observe to the court that it is for this reason we have 
made no objection to many of the gross irregularities 
and informalities of the prosecution. Mr. Vanderveer, 
who murdered Ferrand Merki? ” 

Vanderveer is erect now, lifting his fine head aloft 
like a man looking into heaven. 

“ I myself. Ferrand Merki married the woman I 
loved. I killed him. I am here to tell the circum- 
stances.” 

A great wave of sensation goes around the court- 
room, in the midst of which a woman’s voice rises like 
a bell: 

” No, no. Stop him, for God’s sake! ” 

But somebody directly behind her — a man in the 
dress of a country merchant, draws her down into her 
chair, murmuring very softly in a voice she can not 
resist: 

“ Not a word. If you love him, be quiet. All is 
well.” 

“ Your Honor,” goes on Vanderveer, coolly, after 
the wave of sensation had subsided, and silence is re- 
stored, “ I appreciate the reluctance of the prisoner 
to this course which I take. It does more honor to her 
than anything I shall say can do to me. But I have 
kept silence for seven years only because she refused 
to let me speak. She was safe, I thought. I loved her, 
and we together concealed this crime. It was attrib- 
uted to her, but while she was not in danger of prosecu- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


177 


tion, I consented to allow it to be forgotten. But 
when, but a short time ago, I found that she had been 
seized by the human ghouls who are interested to fol- 
low her, I knew my course clearly. The prisoner, 
Mrs. Merki, I first met when she was Miss Alvaroff, 
in the city of Moscow, in the year 1874. She and her 
father, unknown to me, were implicated in certain Ni- 
hilistic plots, concerning which there are men now in 
this room who know far more than I.” 

He sweeps his eyes around, and Golfi says to Merki, 
in a whisper: 

“ He knows too much. How shall we stop this? ” 

“ Wait,” says Merki, with a tigerish glitter of his fe- 
line eyes. 

“ This Nihilistic conspiracy culminated one day in 
the seizure by the officers of the government of a large 
number of the Nihilists, who were deported to Siberia. 
Ferrand Merki w^as one of the number who managed 
to escape. He was also enamored of the daughter of 
Alvaroff, the prisoner at the bar. By some means un- 
known to me, as I have learned from herself, he man- 
aged to make it appear that Alvaroff was about to be 
seized and w^ould not escape death. She was but a 
girl, not sixteen years of age, as you have heard. Mer- 
ki revealed to her both his owm passion and the danger 
of her father.” 

‘‘ Your Flonor, I hope, does not permit all this as tes- 
timony,” interposes Mr. Knowlton, dryly. He is as 
little moved by this turn of affairs as he has been by the 
beauty of the prisoner. 

“ I will order it recorded,” says the judge, after a 
moment’s thought, “ and determine later what part 
of it may go to the jury. It seems quite unnecessary to 
raise the question, if the witness confesses the crime. 
Proceed, Mr. Vanderveer.” 

The judge leans back in his chair, watching the 
course of the case with minute attention. 

‘‘ Under the stress of Merki’s threats she was induced 
to marry him, the condition being that Alvaroff should 
be warned, and gotten out of Moscow in time to escape 
the seizure. 

The marriage,” goes on Vanderveer, “ was indeed 


178 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


contracted and solemnized, Miss Alvaroff assuring her 
father that she loved the man Merki. He would never 
have consented otherwise, even though his life had 
paid for the refusal. The prisoner, her father, and 
Ferrand Merki, together, came to New York. The 
marriage had no sooner been solemnized than the 
prisoner, shocked at what she had done, even though 
she believed she had saved her father, revealed to Al- 
varoff her loathing for Ferrand Merki. Merki was 
ugly and brutal. She was pure and refined. Alvaroff 
protected her from her husband and refused him the 
slightest access to her presence. I was at that time a 
youth of scarce twenty-one. When I found that this 
girl, whom I loved with the ardor that often comes at 
such an age, had fled from Moscow with Merki and 
Alvaroff, I followed as soon as I could. I reached 
this city on the very next day after them and found the 
place where they were. I was hot-blooded and full 
of my youthful conceits. I did not mean to commit 
crime; but on going to the house in Waverley Place on 
the afternoon of the fourteenth of June, 1874, I heard 
from Merki himself that she was already his wife. I 
doubted it, and told him he was a liar. He was insult- 
ing and vindictive. He feared that, as I had announced 
that I was just from Moscow also, he might find in me 
an agent of the government, or some one who would 
give him trouble. We had a fierce dispute in one of 
the lower rooms of the house where he was killed. I 
demanded to see Miss Alvaroff and know whether he 
was telling the truth. I afterward learned that he him- 
self was then in that house to demand her, and to set a 
watch on them, lest they should fly from him and defeat 
his aims. The witnesses for the prosecution who tes- 
tified that the — the tragedy, occurred in a room up- 
stairs, are simply mistaken. I found Merki that day in 
a room that was used for a library, and was situated 
on the east side of the main hall. It was there he was 
stabbed. He must have crawled up the stairs and 
made the outcry that was heard by this man Runff, 
after I was out of the house. When I struck him he 
was in the act of taking a revolver from the table. The 
records will show that the revolver was found by the 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


179 


coroner on the floor of the library. If further search 
had been made, doubtless blood would also have been 
found there. Merki was maddened by my persistence. 
I was certain that he would shoot me with the revolver. 
I, too, was in a rage. That stiletto, which the witness 
Ruoff, I suppose, has displayed, and which is admitted 
here in evidence, lay on the table, or somewhere near 
my hand. I could not swear how my hand fell on it. 
I only know that when I saw Merki reach for the re- 
volver, with his back partly turned away from me, I 
struck him with it with all my strength. I know not 
how many times I struck, but realizing in an instant 
that I must have wounded him, perhaps fatally, I 
rushed out of the house. When I learned that Merki 
had been killed and that Alvaroff and his daughter 
were under arrest, she charged with the murder, I as- 
sisted them to escape. I, and I alone, am guilty of the 
death of Ferrand Merki.” 

The courtroom flies into a great and increasing buzz 
at this, which the judge quiets at length, ordering 
the case to proceed. 

Vanderveer resumes: 

“ There is little more to be said. The secret has 
been kept all these years. Last summer the prisoner 
was about to be arrested at a country-seat called Gray- 
stone, on Long Island, near the Jamaica beaches. She 
escaped. Now they are arrested and dragged into 
court. In this emergency she should have been pre- 
pared to understand that I would not be silent while a 
woman stands falsely in peril of conviction for a crime 
of which she is as innocent as a babe in arms. I have 
no more to say.” 

Mr. Knowlton is at his weakest point when he con- 
ducts the cross-examination of such a witness. But 
he undertook it nevertheless, only to bring out more 
clearly to the jury a mass of confirmatory details that 
absolutely made him believe that the witness was in- 
deed The guilty man. Nevertheless he did not aban- 
don the case. It would have occurred to a more imag- 
inative man that such a development pointed to a 
possible conspiracy to save the prisoner. But Mr. 
Knowlton never saw below the bare facts as adduced 


l8o DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

in the testimony. He very quickly understood that 
the testimony of Vanderveer left all the testimony of 
the prosecution uncontradicted, and still cleared the 
prisoner. She may have taken the dagger from the 
wound, and still Vanderveer’s story might be abso- 
lutely true. But the other witnesses were put on. 
There was a friend, a Mr. Glasgow, who swore that 
Vanderveer and the prisoner at the bar, with Alvaroff 
and one Benonski, came down to a certain wharf where 
he had a boat waiting, under the impression that it was 
some elopement, and that he and others who had got- 
ten the boat ready, carried them off to a shore town. 
Then came Benonski, who, to the amazement of his 
master, declared that Vanderveer had tried to induce 
him on that fatal day to arrange an interview for him 
with the prisoner, and had threatened in his hearing to 
take the life of Merki. He also declared that Vander- 
veer had undertaken, while in Moscow, to enlist Be- 
nonski’s sympathies in his suit, and had endeavored to 
arrange an elopement there without success. There 
was a complete chain of testimony around Vander- 
veer’s story. 

The judge is perhaps not satisfied, but his Honor 
turns to the jury, saying: 

“ Gentlemen: It is my duty to instruct you that if 
you find from the facts and evidence, and I think you 
must, that the defendant is not guilty, you will bring in 
a verdict of not guilty. On the other hand, should you 
find on such facts that the defendant is guilty, you will 
bring in a verdict to that effect.” 

Under the charge of a Deputy Sheriff, the jury with- 
drew. 

She hears! He is to take her place. He is to take 
her disgrace. He is to succeed with this conspiracy of 
falsehoods in clearing her at his own expense. Mon- 
strous and incredible! Her soul shrieks its protest 
within her. Her strained nerves are ready to burst. 
She shakes off that overpowering touch on her shoul- 
der and struggles to her feet, with eyes like the blaze 
of a fire in the night. 

“Silence! Sit down! You will ruin all,” says the 
magnetic voice at her ear. 


t)OUBLE jeopardy. 


iSl 

‘‘ Never, never,” she begins to say. She meant to 
shriek out her truth against these lies, and to denounce 
this plot with the frenzy of her outraged soul. But as 
she rises, Vanderveer turns and looks her full in the 
face. 

“ Sit down, Brauna. I love you. I command.” 

His voice thrills with all the old passion that has 
stirred her to her adoration of him in the days gone 
by, and into her eyes he is pouring all the intense, 
sweet glory of his devotion. She knows it all. He is 
doing it for love. Her senses begin to reel. The 
strain has been too great. There is a choking of her 
breath, she utters a low cry, and then, like a broken, 
wounded bird, she sinks back on her father’s support- 
ing arm, with a faint, low cry of despair. 

“ Give the prisoner air. Bring ice water,” says the 
judge. “ Officer, clear the courtroom.” 

At this point the jury returns, and the foreman be- 
ing asked by the court if they had reached a finding, re- 
plies : 

“ Yes, your Honor. We find the defendant not 
guilty ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

“to-day I SURRENDER LIFE — ^AND SPEAK.” 

Was this, then, all a plot? 

The machinery of the law has been overtaken with 
a surprise. The judge has been doubtful and the 
jury nonplussed. No extensive preparation had been 
made by the State, under the impression that the pris- 
oner was a nobody and would be capable of making 
little defense. The ease with which the prosecution, 
without resistance, had been able to hasten on the 
trial, was now explained. There had been a stam- 
pede, and the prosecuting attorney was so wedded to 
the facts as they appeared in the apparently natural 
course of the case, he did not even think to move for 
an adjournment until the jury had given their verdict. 
The judge had thought it all strange, and yet he had 


i 82 


DOUBLE jeopardy. 


to confess that Vanderveer’s story on the witness 
stand was supported by seemingly honest witnesses, 
and had a good aspect of reality. At all events, if any 
mistake had been made it is now too late to return. 
The commonest principle of criminal law, to say noth- 
ing of the statutes of New York State, prevents her 
ever being tried again on the same charge for the same 
offense. The State has as a consolation, safely jailed 
in Ludlow Street, the aristocratic witness who has con- 
fessed himself the guilty party. But the judge would 
have said, that even after the confession, Vanderveer 
probably could never be convicted of anything worse 
than a criminal conspiracy to defeat justice, as an ac- 
cessory after the fact, possibly, of persons who have 
now been acquitted of a crime that can not be pun- 
ished. But Vanderveer was likely to go to prison. 
If he disprove his confession he will be indicted as a 
perjurer and a conspirator. 

Benonski has been satisfied. Mr. Brown has kept 
his word to the letter. He has carried out a program 
full of difficulties, and so daring and desperate that the 
very improbability that any one would attempt it has 
contributed to its success. Benonski, walking out of 
court knowing that the trial is over, is nevertheless not 
happy. The trial has been the means of breaking 
down the strength of his dear mistress, and she has 
been carried to their apartments more dead than alive. 
And in the dead of night, as secretly as they can, she 
is rem.oved to a safer place. Alvaroff knows that this 
has not ended the enmity against them, and that what 
his enemies have failed to do by the courts they will 
now attempt to do by more direct means. Brauna re- 
covers her senses and her memory after a few hours. 
She begs her father to tell her what it all means, but 
he knows as little as she. He was astonished that 
such a scheme had been worked, but in his concern for 
his swooning dear one, had no opportunity to think 
what he ought to do before the court was adjourned. 
Even after three days, during which the amazement 
of Alvarofif’s mind has not much abated, she is still 
under the utter prostration due to the strain and 
shock of the trial, and all his time and care are be- 
stowed upon her. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


183 


Surprise and consternation swept through society 
in Vanderveer’s circles when it was spread abroad that 
he had been arrested and jailed on a charge of murder. 
But the public immediately accepted the theory which 
started into life at once, that he had merely sacrificed 
himself successfully for the woman. It began to be 
said among the lawyers that a cunning legal fraud 
had been perpetrated, and the judge and jury 
were dissected and ridiculed by the law offices, as if 
they had been the veriest simpletons. But those who 
said so had not been present at the trial. They had 
not taken into account the fact that the author of this 
defense, now fast becoming memorable in the annals 
of conspiracy, had made a fictitious case that was more 
real and more impenetrable than the truth itself. If 
the trial were to be had over again, unless the prisoner 
herself could be brought to speak, the same defense 
would baffle all the detectives in the metropolis. It 
would also clear the prisoner. And behind it was a 
power, embodied in the brain and will and soul of a 
man, spurred on by motives the strongest that sway 
the human heart. 

And now the witnesses have disappeared, the jury 
has acted, the ground can not be re-traversed. She 
is free forever from this danger. 

It is nearly two weeks after the trial. 

Brauna, with the resiliency of a perfect youth, has 
recovered from the almost deadly prostration. One 
thing above all others has brought back to her a new 
life and a spirit of almost glorified peace. That one 
thing is the memory of the look and the words of 
Vanderveer in the courtroom: 

“ Sit down, Brauna. I love you. I command.’' 

“ I love you! ” 

And faithful Benonski has added to this the over- 
whelming information that for her in her danger, at 
the last hour, almost, he has broken off his intended 
marriage. For the rest, why should she ever weep 
again? True, he is in her place, but she will see to 
that. She will unweave this web of falsehoods, and 
save him, no matter at what expense. And whatever 
happens now, come death, come shame, come flight or 
peril or enemy, he loves her, and that is enough. 


184 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


From this dream of peace, resolving how to save 
him, she is awakened one day by an unwelcome in- 
truder. 

As Brauna and her father sit together in their little 
parlor whither Benonski has brought them, conversing 
about the proper course to pursue toward Mr. Van- 
derveer, a note was brought up from the door. 

Alvaroff opens it and reads : 

“ I must see you instantly. Your life may depend 
upon it. It is time for me to speak. 

“ John Waters.” 

“ That strange, bitter man! He has found us again.” 

“ No, no. He has followed us, he will do us more 
harm. For heaven’s sake, papa, let us flee.” 

” He alone can not harm us, dear. If he meant to 
do so, he would not have sent this. Brauna, I know 
not what to say about this man. Even in that hour 
when he made the last arrest — somehow, I could not 
feel that he was the bitter enemy he seemed, even 
when my reason most clearly told me so. But if he is, 
he can not arrest us again. And he says our lives 
may depend. I do not fear him, dear.” 

And in that moment, after all that they had seemed 
to suffer because of him, Brauna herself, strangely 
enough, remembered not his cold smile, but the look 
of that night at Graystone, when, gazing into her eyes, 
his own filled with tender devotion, he had said: 

” When my life can serve you I shall lay it down as 
the most worthless thing I have.” 

She bows her head in thought a moment, and then 
says, doubtfully: 

” Do as vou think best, then. If he harms us it is 
nothing now.” 

Alvaroff is quick to understand. Nothing matters 
now. Nothing can disturb her, since she knows that 
Vanderveer is true to her. Accordingly he sends word 
for the caller to be shown up. 

The gentleman enters very quietly, saying: 

“ I greet you, sir — and you, madam. Pardon me, 
but there is need of haste. I feared I was too late. 


DOUBLE JEOBARDY. 


185 

Since I am not, you will be safe a little longer. Alvar- 
off, you have recognized me. Seven years ago, in Mos- 
cow, you learned a secret that explains all I am and 
have done. I have imparted that secret to your 
daughter also. You know the ill-success with which 
I had the misfortune to meet.’’ 

He pauses, looking first at Alvaroff and then at 
Brauna. He is as delicate and unruffled as ever. 

Alvaroff, feeling a little return, perhaps of his fear 
and repulsion, replies, coldly: 

“ Kindly explain. Perhaps you have come to make 
more arrests. Arrests seem to be a favorite occupa- 
tion with you. I do not remember to have invited 
you.” 

“ I shall speak. To you both I shall no longer be a 
living riddle — if perchance you ever happen to honor 
me with any thought whatever. You have seen me on 
two important occasions in the guise of an enemy. For 
my own satisfaction, I am about to prove to you that I 
am your friend. Once, with the keen sting of a whip 
of scorpions, Alvaroff, you lashed me as a man who 
could revenge a rejection with hatred. My lips were 
at that time sealed, but to-day I surrender life and 
speak. I am a friend. I have never been anything 
else.” 

He turns to her. Again that volcanic fire of love, 
of passion, of disappointment, of devotion and fidelity 
flames in his eyes till it irradiates his face. She sees 
it, shrinks from it, wonders at it. So for a moment 
he stands, like a statue. Then the look fades, and the 
old calm smile is once again in its place as he re- 
sumes: 

“ If I had the right — which, alas! I have not — I 
would more fully tell you why I am a friend. But you 
shall no longer think, being just and also generous, 
that I am a man capable of cherishing a spite. When I 
opened my heart once to you, and then last year to her, 
I put out all the truth there is in man, for no man has 
any truth but his love. Because I love, I have saved 
you both.” 

He pauses, and Brauna starts and looks at him as in 
a dream. That sonorous, magnetic tone into which 


i86 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


he had fallen — where has she heard it? Suddenly she 
is in the courtroom again. She is hearing Vanderveer 
on the witness stand. Again she feels that touch on 
the shoulder — that commanding voice that controlled 
her there like the voice of Destiny. She stares now 
at this strange man a moment, her hand over her heav- 
ing breast. 

My God! You are the old man — Mr. Brown! It 
was you, then. My God! ” 

‘‘ You have guessed it. I did not dare trust even 
Benonski. It was my duty to live until you two were 
safe. I used Benonski as much as I must. I am Mr. 
Brown. I have conferred with Mr. Vanderveer. He 
and I together perfected the plan by which you will go 
free. It was I who broke off his wedding. It was I 
who put Godby on guard alone in order that you 
might be sure to escape. It is I who have now come 
to say that before another day dawns you must be far 
away from this city. Saying that, I take my life in 
my hands, for you.’’ 

“ Mr. Waters,” says Alvaroff, after a long pause. 
“ I believe you. Little as we could know, and suc- 
cessfully as you have deceived everybody, there has 
never been a time when my heart said to me that you 
were a villain. Forgive us both for our unfaith.” 

Waters gave a little gesture of impatience. 

“ Who is entitled to forgive? I have not been 
wronged. I have had the greatest joy that ever comes 
to man. I have been able to serve — her.” 

He turned away with a sigh, and then went on, 
dreamily: 

“ But I myself am willing to seek forgiveness that, 
doing it, I was also obliged to wound you both. That 
is past now. I am already so far discredited that I 
can not deceive any longer the men from whose power 
I would save you. I am therefore under no more ne- 
cessity for disguises. I shall now break their power 
and save you by other means. Alvaroff, you are 
marked for immediate death. Your daughter will die 
with you — if you die. Count St. Mart Golfi knows 
where you are. I happen to know that of all the 
men marked for death by the Brotherhood since 


JDOtJBLE JEOPARDY. 


187 

America became a rendezvous, I only have been able 
to rescue a few. Their track has been a trail of blood, 
and they have seldom failed. If I myself am not al- 
ready marked, I soon shall be. We must both act. 
I shall break Golfi’s confederacy in pieces. You will 
be safe after I have done it.” 

“ But Golfi is mistaken. I had nothing to do with 
the betrayal of the patriots. Why does he think so? ” 

‘‘ Because you escaped. Because he has been told 
that the officers of the Czar were seen at your house. 
He believes it. Now I wish to know why she has also 
been condemned? ” 

“ That is as mysterious to me as to you. Golfi — is 
he then a man to strike the innocent? ” 

“ No. He has suffered. He has traversed Siberian 
mountains in winter. He has felt on his back the 
dreadful knout. He has nursed hatred to tyrants from 
the bosom of untold misfortunes. But he has some 
reason unknown to me for the edict against her. What 
other enemv has she?” 

■ None? ” 

“ I am hazarding a guess. Has any one ever hinted 
to you that Ferrand Merki escaped death and still 
lives?” 

Alvaroff, startled and puzzled, at once reveals Be- 
nonski’s account of meeting a man who resembled 
Merki. 

“ I have seen this man. I also know that he is in 
communication with Golfii. But he can not be Mer- 
ki. Merki died seven years ago.” . 

. “ So I believe. But the question alarms me. Mr. 
Waters, do you surmise any connection between this 
pursuit and the existence of this man who resembles 
Ferrand Merki? ” 

“ That I will find out. Leave that to me. He re- 
sembles Ferrand Merki enough to make me suspicious. 
But I have not the same means for penetrating se- 
crets in Jane Street that I once enjoyed. Let us now 
think only of the main thing. There is a provision 
for your escape. I have not been idle since the day of 
the court. If you will accept my advice then I will 
send you for a short time to inhabit a few feet of sand. 


i88 


DOUBLE JEOBARDV. 


On it is a hut where provisions have been made for 
your comfort. When my work in this city has been 
finished I will signal you from my steam yacht some 
morning, and on it 3^ou shall be landed in nine days 
in the harbor of Bordeaux. I await your decision.” 

Alvaroff now sees in this man a hero, whom an 
hour ago he had half believed a villain. It is not what 
he has said, for indeed he has made very little explana- 
tion beyond the barest assertions. It is rather the 
man himself. 

“We will go, of course,” quickly replies Alvaroff. 
“ What you have already done entitles you to our en- 
tire confidence. Brauna, my daughter, what do you 
say? ” 

She has not dared to speak. She is filled with re- 
morse for having wronged him. But when her father 
appeals to her, she looks in Waters’s face with her old 
frank, sweet grace, and replies, in a low voice: 

“ Mr. Waters, we shall not doubt you again. May 
God bless 3^011 as a friend in need. We will follow 
your course as you may direct — you and papa.” 

There is little enough time. I myself will go with 
you part of the way.” 

Brauna, burning at the cheeks, looks at him with a 
question almost shrieking to be asked. She fears to 
wound this great heart — and yet she will never stir 
from this house until she knows. Of that she feels 
sure. He sees her, and does he not know what that 
look means? A little flush of color comes into his own 
face, too. But he shuts his teeth as the smile dies on 
his lips. He has not left her unanswered. 

“ I have planned all the other matters that might 
interest you here,” he says, his voice sounding a little 
hard and strained. “ Mr. Vanderveer will really never 
be tried. Nobody in New York is so stupid now as 
not to have seen through our little machinery of lies. 
But for fear that that man Knowlton may try to get 
even with us by sending Mr. Vanderveer to prison, 
if he can, for a criminal conspiracy — well, he will mys- 
teriously escape from the jail a day or two before the 
trial. I really have an idea that he will sail on the same 
deck that takes us to Bordeaux.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


189 


There is a little cool exultation in his manner, as he 
lifts his face and smiles again, and if anything can re- 
pay a man who is torturing his own heart for the bene- 
fit of a rival, Brauna’s look of gratitude and delight 
may have repaid John Waters. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

“ IT IS I WHO LOVE YOU.” 

Mr. Knowlton was not so well convinced as a less 
literal-minded man might have been that Vanderveer 
had been merely conspiring. He fully expected to 
convict him on the court records. He also determined 
to make him an example to such a degree that the ridi- 
cule which he has incurred will be repaid. He was a 
man who never tired of waiting for his compensations, 
and he does not hasten Vanderveer’s trial in the least, 
preferring to take ample time for all further proofs of 
his guilt that can possibly be gained. Meanwhile, 
Vanderveer has opportunity to discover what accom- 
modations Ludlow Street jail can furnish for an aris- 
tocrat who has never known anything worse in his life 
than the luxuries of a rich man’s mansion. But those 
who think that heroism is confined to the poor have 
not remembered history. Vanderveer was permitted 
to have the attention of his friends, and his lot was 
made tolerable by them; but it is hard enough to 
prove that he could bear adversity with equanimity. 
vSo far as jail life was concerned, he would have com- 
plained of nothing had it been far worse. But when 
the days went by and he heard nothing from John Wa- 
ters and the plans which he believed would be con- 
summated for his safety, he begins to doubt and grow 
uneasy. He is generous and brave, but not patient 
and constant. Of an artistic temperament, he is very 
sensitive to surrounding influences. As the charm 
and magnetism of Waters’s actual presence wore 
away, he was assailed by questions, and tormented by 
the possibilities suggested by his fertile imagination 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


190 

that began to make him very miserable. Not a word 
from the man who alone can save him! Not a word 
from the woman whom he loves! Not a word from 
Benonski! 

What if Waters has played false? What if he 
has purposes of his own? What if he has remem- 
bered Vanderveer’s former insults and has somehow 
planned this out of revenge? And with these mental 
follies Vanderveer built and built an increasing and 
colossal fear, that was fast becoming torture as the 
days went by. 

He saw that there was a chance that he may have 
been deceived. After all, it might be that this Waters, 
who has spoken so warmly of Brauna — it might be 
that he is enamored of her. It might be that he 
would be willing to save her for his own reasons, and 
be rid of an only rival for the same reasons. His soul 
swore to him that it could not be, while his miserable 
fears kept suggesting that it might be. Men have 
been as cunning before — and as deceptive. Waters 
has charmed him and convinced him, but a villain 
setting himself to a great plot might have done it — 
perhaps. 

Thus the imaginative fool for days conned and fan- 
cied and built hypotheses, and strung together the- 
ories and chafed himself sore of soul and heart. 

In the midst of it Satan comes to comfort him — 
Satan in skirts, and with more than the smile of an- 
gels! 

He had sent a careful answer to Blanche’s letter, full 
of regret at the pain he had given her, and thanking 
her for her sweet forbearance and good-will. And Wa- 
ters, seeing that Vanderveer suspects nothing, has 
kept his own suspicions to himself. She is an 
enigma even to Waters; he onl) guesses, but by no 
means is sure, that she is a wicked woman. As for 
Mr. James Smith, Vanderveer has investigated him, 
and that person has proved equal to all questions. He 
confesses that he has told Waters that Vanderveer re- 
ceived the letter from Brauna, and the letter itself was 
found, strangely enough, in one of Vanderveer’s pock- 
ets. When found it bears a postmark and is in an en- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


I91 

velope, and gives no sign of being merely an inclosure 
to Blanche. Vanderveer is able to explain how he 
may have missed seeing it. Smith has a right to open 
it, as it has come to the office, and the generous fellow 
blames himself, and thinks it a careless accident that he 
never received the letter. He explains the matter in 
detail to Mr. Waters, who keeps silent and does not 
inform him that Mr. James Smith is no other than 
Godby of the Graystone affair. He has no interest in 
exposing Blanche, even if he believes that she had a 
hand in holding back that letter. If Vanderveer be- 
lieves in her, let him. 

She is all clear in his eves, therefore, when, after he 
has been in Ludlov/ Street jail for over two weeks, she 
comes in upon him one day like a dazzling vision of 
innocence and light. 

Like other tempters, whether in skirts or not, she is 
most timely with his miserable suspicions, and so be- 
comingly tender, sad. and sympathetic! 

She greets him without embarrassment, and permits 
her gloved, warm hand to linger delicately a moment in 
his grasp. 

He thinks she has suffered and this touches his 
pride. No man is without vanity enough to exult in 
the thought that a beautiful woman loves him. 

“ Of course it is all a wretched mistake,” she says, 
in a low voice. “ I wish I knew who is doing it.” 

She coos and purrs on him, and makes him feel how 
beautiful is her soft friendship. Here is a woman 
who can forgive and love even after all that has hap- 
pened. Vanderveer looks at her in admiration and 
delight. She is so beautiful, so frank, and sweet, and 
delicate. 

And when they had talked ten minutes, little by little, 
she has led him into a confidential mood, and he opens 
to her his heart. He tells her all the story of the plot, 
of Waters and Benonski, and the trial. 

Indiscreet gusher! He would have told her any- 
thing whatever! 

As he goes on, Miss Evanston becomes sadder and 
more stern. She affects to catch her breath in aston- 
ishment and indignation! Of course she has thought 


192 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


out all that matter before. ' She has known nothing 
of Waters’s part, nor of his attitude, but she knew very 
well that it has been a plot. But to Vanderveer she 
is most horribly astonished, as if such a web of things 
was something foreign to all her previous experience. 
But there were some questions here and there that in- 
stantly alarmed Vanderveer. She wanted to known 
about this man Waters. 

“ He has not been here to see you, you say? ” and: 

“He planned to go away with her — with them, I 
mean? ” and 

“ Oh! He really agreed to get you out of this? ” 

What did she mean? Did she at once doubt Waters 
on the mere narration? 

“ You remember Waters, do you not? The man 
whom you met at Graystone? “ 

She casts down her eyes and seems to shrink from 
answering. At last, in a low, strained tone, as if 
forced to it, she drags out this cunning lie: 

“ Yes. That is — well — Erauna told me — but I must 
not tell that. She said it in confidence. Dear Mr. 
Vanderveer, please do not ask me about that man.” 

“ For God’s sake, what do you mean? Tell me if 
there is anything. Oh, Miss Evanston, I am tor- 
tured about that man day and night. Why does he 
not come? ” 

Well — I will tell, then. Nothing shall prevent. 
Whoever else may have been conspiring to ruin you. 
you have one friend. Very well. Brauna told me that 
this man Waters proposed to her that very evening.” 

“ Oh, my God! I see it all. He is a scoundrel then, 
after all. Then I am lost.” 

“ No. But you were simple to trust that fellow. 
Oh, Mr. Vanderveer, if only you did not love her. And 
I do not dare tell you the rest. You would not be- 
lieve — because you are madly in love. But why have 
you not heard from her then? Do you think any man 
or woman of the world, or heaven, or hell, could pre- 
vent me from coming here were I in her place?” 

She flushes and flames on him with her eyes, in 
which so many times he has seen her adoration. He 
stares at her stupidly, saying, hoarsely: 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


193 


“ Speak! Tell me what you mean? ” 

“ Nothing. I will say no more. But I will see to 
it that you do not suffer much longer. I will show 
you that I have not only the power but the will to de- 
feat this man Waters. *Be of good cheer! I will have 
you out of this jail before you know it — or I am not 
the woman I believe myself to be.” 

There is something about her now that she has never 
before revealed to Vanderveer. She is strong, de- 
cisive, and powerful, and seems to have taken on the 
age and skill of a woman of years. But it is only for a 
moment, and then the doll-like face resumes its pla- 
cidity and sweetness. 

You shall speak. I will know all that you know 
— and suspect. If I have been deceived— speak, I 
say.” 

Ihe simpleton! As if she was not burning like a 
volcano to let out her lies! 

‘‘Oh, Harris! If you did not love her — if only I 
were the woman — don’t listen to me. How can I help 
my love? But don’t listen to me, I say. I am a jeal- 
ous rival. I don’t love her. I — I hate her. There! 
Now you will not ask me to speak. Oh, I was her 
friend — I did try to be generous, to forget, to wish 
her all good — because you love her. But how can I? 
How can I? She has robbed me of you — of you! 
Now if I say a word you will know that it is merely 
because I am jealous. I will go. I will never see you 
again.” 

She turns away. She is in tears — such as a saint 
might shed after the confession of a fault. She is 
beautiful, delicate, self-reproachful. For him, he thinks, 
she has suffered. For him she has tried to be gener- 
ous and kind to her rival. For him she has come 
here to show her friendship. And for him she will 
not now say what she has in her heart about Brauna. 
Then again he adjures her to tell. He is bound to 
torment himself all he can. She knows something. 
He must hear it. So she reluctantly goes on: 

“ Call this all a jealous lie if you like, dear,” she says, 
still crying. “ But she did care for that man. She 
had a struggle to choose you. If he had spoken first 


194 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


he would have her and not you. If she has gone away, 
be sure he has not stayed behind to concern himself 
about saving a man who alone stands in the way of his 
suit. I do not say she will give up at once — but you 
know what a man he is. How will it be, think you, 
when he is with her every minute — with his comfort, 

his sweet words, his ” 

Stop! Stop! You torture my heart. Oh! let me 
get out then, that I may prevent him. Oh! the cursed 
scoundrel ! ” 

“ Foolish man! He only does what any shrewd man 
with no conscience might do. And she believes you 
long ago married to — to me.” 

She shot off this falsehood at a venture, reflecting 
that he could not know whether she was lying, or only 
mistaken, if she had told the matter wrongly. 

“What! He has not told her then. Stupid 
damned driveling idiot that I am, not to see! She be- 
lieves me false — she believes me married! And he is 
with her all this time to whisper that lie — and to make 
love to her.” 

“ Why not? Vanderveer, let it be so. You loved 
her — you love her. But has not all this taught you — 
well, has it not taught you that one woman in all this 
world loves you more than she? Think you I would 
be saved by such a sacrifice as that, and never give a 
sign? Use your own reason. What if she does be- 
lieve you married? Did it kill my love when I knew 
that you would go to another woman’s arms? Oh! my 
darling one! Can a woman love who for days has 
known that you are about to be tried for your life, 
and sends not even one poor flower to you? Why does 
she leave New York with you in danger? They should 
never take me. My dead' body alone would ever go 
while you needed a friend. But don’t hear me. It is 
infamous in me to torment you thus. Forget it, dear. 
Say it is only the spite of a jealous woman. No! No! 
You can’t say that. I — it is I who love you. Vander- 
veer, if she is gone, for God’s sake think of me. You 
believed when you thought her dead that with me you 
could still be happy. Happy! Happy! — my God, we 
would have been happy, too. You would have forgot- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


195 


ten her. But now — unless I have lied — unless my sus- 
picions are merely the ravings of jealousy — then she is 
worse than dead — she is with — ^John Waters — she is 
hearing the voice of a man whom once she almost pre- 
ferred to you. Oh, Harris! It is not too late. We can 
be happy still. Far away, far from the sight of her face, 
far from the bane of her fortunes — Vanderveer, I will 
save you. I will make your life one long dream of 
glory. I can and will. She love? It is the vanity 
of nothingness. Where is she, then? But I am here. 
Had I dreamed — had I suspected, long ago would I 
have been here. Vanderveer, as God lives I will make 
you forget that there is another woman in the world 
but me. You did love me once, dear. Love me still.” 

Flow she coos on him. How the sensuous, soft 
breath fans him like zephyrs, and how the poison sinks 
in. Her very warnings that he is not to believe her 
make him believe her. Her very confession of her 
jealousy compels him to say that she is honest as heav- 
en. And his senses are thralled again by her beauty. 
He is stung by her repeated reminder that the woman 
he lias saved has not even sent him so much as a 
flower. He believes her lie that she has once cared 
more or less for Waters. He remembers the subtle, 
strange, magnetic fascination of Waters’s presence. 
He recalls how softly and thrillingly he ever has named 
her or spoken of her. He feels sure that Waters loves 
her. And while this beautiful woman is near he can 
not resist her. How she loves him! How vilely has 
she been treated! How wretchedly in this tangle of 
fortune has she fared. And he has indeed once al- 
most loved her! 

The next day the temptress comes again, and then 
again. Still no word from the friends who have agreed 
to save him. He hears that Knowlton has made and 
is making the most strenuous efforts. Without Wa- 
ters he will be convicted. Without the witnesses 
whom Waters has trained, at hand to deny their lies, 
he will be sent to the rope on his own confession. And 
they do not come! They make no sign. While now, 
every day, this siren, soft as sunshine and cunning as a 
devil, whispers her temptations in his ears. She can 
save him, and she will. 


igG DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

She has the plot all ready to develop. Mr. Smith 
is converting all the property into cash and sending 
it on to another country, whither they will flee to- 
gether. By the unusual grace of the jail officials, pur- 
chased, or obtained by more effective means, she is 
allowed to be here and to stay long. She plays on him 
with all her arts. She uses her eyes, and her smile, 
and her persuasive arguments. They will be happy, 
she says. The world is well lost. In her arms he 
shall forget that ever another woman lived on earth. 
In her adoration his days shall be one long dream of 
glory. She will charm away forever his dreams of the 
past. 

Can any man with the desire for freedom resist that? 
And here is a woman, with the face of an angel and the 
sweetness of a cherub, ready to fling the world and all 
things away for his sake, plying him with all her sensu- 
ous allurements and endearments, who means to do 
what Waters has promised and has failed to do — set 
him at liberty and grant him escape to another land. 
And he has only to accept her. If she releases him 
then he knows that his honor will be bound to fulfill 
the whole arrangement. 

He does not say that he has yielded. Does not tell 
Blanche that with her he will flee and leave all things 
else behind. But in his heart, after ten days of this 
siege, he knows that this is the course he will take if 
nothing interrupts. Blanche knows it too, and her 
soul is again swelling in the expectancy of a triumph 
that now she will achieve. 

The machinery is all ready to be set in operation. 
A certain railway train, that leaves at half-past eleven 
in the evening, is to bear them away. On that night 
his cell will be left unlocked. The jail door will mys- 
teriously open before him. It will be days before the 
escape will be known by any one who will be interested 
to report it. 

As the day approaches Vanderveer gets as feverish 
as a fire. He has, underneath, the consciousness that 
this is a wretched ending of the great plot concocted 
by himself and John Waters. But he wants to be 
away from it all. He has made provision for inform- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


i97 


ing his sister of everything after he is well out of the 
city. He will go to the ends of the earth, and live 
another life with this incomparable woman whose love 
is now all that is left him. 

The day comes ! At ten o’clock he will go out. 

But at six o’clock he is startled by a remarkable co- 
incidence. 


CHAPTER XXVHI. 

“ NOW DIE.” 

On the 31st of March, 1881, Alexander IL, Czar of 
all the Russias, was assassinated. The Executive 
Committee of the Nihilist fraternity succeeded on the 
following day, in spite of all the precautions of the 
military and police, in posting their declaration all 
over the empire. 

The Executive Committee never drop their weap- 
ons,” it said. “ Russia, exhausted by famine, worn 
out by the arbitrary proceedings of the administration, 
continually losing her sons on the gallows, or in the 
mines, in exile — Russia can not live thus. She de- 
mands liberty. Every violator of the will of the peo- 
ple is the nation’s enemy and tyrant.” 

Five of the assassins, or rather accomplices of the 
bomb thrower who killed the Czar, were executed. 
One of them was a woman of rank. But Nihilism 
was not terrified. The League that stood behind 
Hartmann and his companions still made bombs in St. 
Petersburg itself. Their placards were to be seen 
almost at the doors of the palace. 

Horror filled the civilized world. Monarchs were 
guarded in their capitals with redoubled vigilance. 
The detectives of government in every city of Europe 
and America were set on the qni vive for the possible 
outbreak of anarchy and violence. The anarchistic 
circles of Chicago were put under close surveillance 
for thirty days. In New York there was unusual stir 
among the police, and Russia in New York, and ev- 
ery man with a Russian name, and every agitator who 


iDOtTBLE JEOt>AEbY. 


I9S 

was supected of violent sentiments, became an object 
of their watchfulness. 

It was upon this day that John Waters, for the last 
time, enters the secret retreat of the Nihilists in Jane 
Street. 

Count St. Mart Golfi, sitting again at his table, has 
just been told that the blow has fallen upon the 
crowned symbol of Russia’s oppressions. A grim smile 
plays upon his face. He is remembering that Siberia 
is also Russia, and that the blood of an emperor is re- 
paying the dreadful gashes of the knout, that still 
sting in the ridges of his scarred and harried flesh. He 
believes that patriotism has dealt this blow. He be- 
lieves that the rights of man have been tremendously 
vindicated before the throne of fate in symbols of 
blood. He has abandoned long ago the patience of 
peaceful agitation and the limits of the golden rule. 
The law of retaliation alone is sacred in the ethics of 
Count St. Mart Golfi and his followers of the League. 

But in that very hour his grim joy in the death of 
the Czar is strangely shadowed. He knows not why. 
He had believed that when he should know that the 
deed was done, for which he had helped to prepare, 
he would be light of heart again, because one less 
of earth’s tyrants vexed the world by living in it. He 
is waiting now for signals from across the sea. It 
may be that he and all these gloomy men will be needed 
there in the revolution which they hope for. 

But he knows not why he is filled, in this moment 
of his victory, with a sadness and a foreboding that 
clouds the rose light of his exultation. 

The great deed is accomplished, the lesser one is 
about to be. At midnight of the previous day Ferrand 
Merkianda dozen picked men have started out from the 
city on an errand of death as dreadful as the deed just 
consummated in Russia, They have proved to them- 
selves that John Waters is guiding the escape of Al- 
varoff the traitor. They will fool no more with the sa- 
tires of American court justice. Night and day they 
have watched and scoured and searched for a trace, and 
now they have found it. 

Count St. Mart Golfi, sitting there at his table, is 
again startled by the entrance of John Waters. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


199 


He instantly reflects that he has come without the 
usual warnings from his guards at the doors. This not 
only startles, but also puzzles him. He looks up at 
Waters with a black scowl in his face, and then 
glances about swiftly. 

He is startled again! For the first time this morn- 
ing he observes that the paper weight on his table 
has been taken away. Looking more closely, he sees 
that the table has also been taken with it, and a differ- 
ent one sits here in its place. He glances upward. 
Where is his little cord, by which he has been able to 
cause this ceiling to fall and crush? And where are all 
the other springs, and keys, and knobs, and cords, that 
give him control of the life of any man standing or 
sitting in any portion of this apartment? 

Not one of them remains! They have been re- 
moved ! 

Count St. Mart Golfi at once guesses that danger is 
near him, and that some climax is to be precipitated. 
And he also connects his danger in his mind with 
this strange man, who now walks swiftly into the room 
and stands before him with that same strange, baffling, 
impenetrable smile on his face. 

“ Count St. Mart Golfi, I greet you,” says Waters, 
bowing. “ I have again come to perform a duty. I 
learn that you have already given the red order. You 
have broken vour word.” 

“ What word? ” 

He is still the powerful leader of his League, and a 
man whom nothing daunts. He faces Waters, watch- 
ing carefully for whatever may come. 

“ You agreed that before you gave the order, I 
should have due notice. Now it has been given with- 
out notice. This is the first time I remember to have 
discovered you in a breach of your promises.” 

You speak as if I owed you an apology. It is not 
so. It is I, and not you, who command here. Per- 
haps you have forgotten that. I pray you, moderate 
your tone. You are quite too imperative.” 

It is nothing. Neither of us is any longer en- 
titled to command. Certainly not you. The red order 
has absolved me. I do not intend to be killed — not 


200 


DOUBLE JEOPAitDY. 


yet. Count Golfi, it is time I confessed that which 
you have wished me to deny. I have decided to have 
nothing more to do with tlie League. I have notified 
the authorities where the Russians who belong to the 
plot of assassination may be found. If your men re- 
main here they will be arrested before night. As a 
partial atonement for what I have done, I now come 
to give you the opportunity to escape. I merely desire 
to disarm your power in America and drive you back 
to Russia. I do not desire your death. If you go 
quickly, you will escape. If you do not, you will 
again feel the knout in the prisons of Siberia.” 

“Ah! You speak seriously, I see. You are then 
a greater traitor than I believed.” 

“ I have never adopted your infamous creed of Ni- 
hilism. I am a patriot, but I do not write my creed 
in blood. I have believed, and I do still believe, that 
the wrongs of Russia’s oppressed children can be made 
right. I have burned at them, and I have joined 
myself with the enemies of the Czar. But I do not 
believe in the dagger, the torch, and the bomb. Will- 
ing to die myself, I have never engaged in taking 
human life, save in self-defense. But when you, and 
those with you, have tried to wreak the spite of a 
private vengeance that never helps a righteous cause 
and does but degrade manhood, I — I, Count Golfi, 
have prevented you. I have done it skillfully, have I 
not? Be you the witness. I have saved life, you 
have destroyed life. Your record book has shown 
you how many I have rescued. And in doing it I 
have never betrayed my brothers. But the day has 
come when the patriots who love Russia and believe 
that there is nothing without liberty, clearly see that 
this League pursues methods of assassination which 
justice never has required. I therefore have under- 
taken to break up this League and to drive you and 
the men who work with you out of New York. I 
offer you the opportunity to escape arrest. Mean- 
while, I will tell you that I am not alone.” 

“Traitor!” hisses Golfi, now becoming maddened 
by the cool audacity of Waters. “You have under- 
taken a large contract. When I leave New York I will 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


201 


leave behind me the tortured carcass of the scoundrel 
^vho betrays liberty. The red order was not too soon. 
I will execute it myself.’’ 

He rises from his seat, his face blackening with a 
deadly scowl. 

“ That is what I would hear you say. If I have 
desired to shed blood at all, I have desired to shed the 
blood of Golfi. I will now tell you why. When I 
was a lad twelve years of age, my father belonged to 
the Moscow League, though he was an American. 
He was seized one day by the Czar’s officers. He and 
another man were carried to an underground cell in 
St. Petersburg. There in that cell they were put to 
the torture. My father’s family, his wife, my mother, 
myself, and my brother, younger than I, were impris- 
oned with them. To force confession of the conspiracy 
in which they were engaged they were put to the tor- 
ture in the sight of us, his distracted family. But my 
mother, racked by his tortures, adjured him to con- 
stancy, and his lips never opened. But there was 
another. He had no family. No one loved him. 
Nevertheless, with the first shriek of his pain, he 
weakened and charged my father with the plot. Is 
that a familiar story, Count Golfi? ” 

St. Mart is staring in amazement at Waters. He 
draws away a little, saying, in a hoarse voice: 

“ Are you, then, that American’s son? ” 

“ Yes. It was your weakness. Count Golfi, and your 
lies, that sent my father to the knout. He died under 
that torture, and his body was thrown into the vaults 
beneath the palace prison. I have known this all 
these years. But my creed has never been the creed 
of the avenger, and you have lived. You, Count Golfi, 
since that day, by the justice of God, have felt the 
knout yourself. I am satisfied.” 

“ But I am not satisfied. The American, your 
father, whose name until this hour I never knew, de- 
served his fate. His son shall fare far worse.” 

You waste time. I have remembered the knout 
that slew my father. I have never loved the oppres- 
sors of Russia. But I detest your creed of blood, 
Count Golfi, and because I do I have not even been 


202 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


willing to see you go again to the knout without warn- 
ing. Take my advice and flee.’’ 

The smile is gone now, and he stands in the calm, 
cold, simple dignity of a man who has suffered and 
become strong in the fires, looking his enemy fearless- 
ly in the face. 

“ When I have seen you torn limb from limb, and 
your last breath agonized from your carcass — then I 
will go — or stay, as I deem best. Baron de Lani! ” 

“ Baron de Lani will not hear you. We are alone. 
I have taken away the table, you observe, and all your 
death traps are useless. But since you choose not to 
take my advice, I offer you an honorable death. Bring 
swords, Count Golfi. Both of us will not go out 
alive.” 

“Swords! What! Let an avowed traitor die by 
the sword? Never! Stand aside!” 

He would have brushed past Waters to call in his 
men and execute his purpose. But now this iron man 
found out v/hat is meant by iron against steel. His 
boast that he made to De Lani comes back upon him. 
He who would have crushed, is seized like lightning, 
and hurled back into his chair again. Over him flam- 
ing eyes! Before him that fine, tall, towering form! 
Twice he struggles up and twice he is hurled back! 

“ I am your master. Count Golfi,” says this marvel- 
ous man, not even panting with his exertions. 

“ But I believe,” he goes on, calmly, “ that you are 
called the expert swordsman of all Moscow — of all 
Russia, it may be. I offer you a sword.” 

He goes straight and rapidly to the wall, where 
he has seen swords hanging. He has noted them here 
before. Before Count Golfi, astonished at the ease 
with which he has been flung about by this marvelous 
power, and sitting dazed in his chair, can recover 
himself. Waters has drawn these two blades from their 
sheaths, which are fastened in the rack, and stands 
again before the Count. 

“ With one of these in your hand. Count Golfi, you 
ought not to fear me,” says Waters, tauntingly. “ It 
is not often said that Golfi is a coward.” 

“Devil! I see you are a brave man, though, and 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


203 


worth my steel. No man ever before threw me in a 
chair like this. But no man calls Golfi a coward 
You shall eat the words and die. Come. You shall 
live but one minute by the clock.” 

Golfi is astonished that a man like Waters should 
propose to put himself into the jaws of death like this. 
He might be strong in his arms, but what is a little 
strength against a skill that has made him the most 
famous fencer in a nation of sword wielders? Waters 
is an American. He has not been known as a swords- 
man. It is sheer suicide for him to face Golfi — so the 
latter reasons. 

But Waters steps to the center of the room and rests 
the point of his weapon on the floor, leaving its mate 
on the table. 

“ You have chosen the weaker blade. I shall break 
it,” says Golfi, with a sneer, as he picks up the weapon 
Waters has left with him, and looks it over. 

“ If you do, then I shall kill you with the hilt,” says 
Waters, smiling back his defiance. 

Golfi gives a hard, strained laugh. Somehow he 
feels the shivering conviction in the presence of this 
powerful soul that he will literally keep his word. 
For the first time in his life Count Golfi, with a 
sword in his hand, feels little like wielding it. Those 
terrible glittering eyes are like a million swords, to 
pierce him with their kindling light of anger. For 
John Waters is being now slowly transformed. The 
smile is changing into the grim, resolute expression of 
dangerous eagerness, and his eyes begin to kindle like 
the fires of a lighting conflagration. His presence 
becomes terrible. The harsh, audacious Golfi, who 
seldom feels human influences, feels now the influence 
of John Waters. It seems almost to him, as he takes 
the sword from the table, that the heavy blade turns 
heavier in his grasp, and the strength oozes out of his 
muscles. 

But he is a brave man without a sword. With a 
sword he is not only a brave man, but an invincible 
one before any ordinary antagonist. The conscious- 
ness of his power brings back his iron courage, when 
he fairly feels the- hilt in his fingers. He shakes off 


204 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


the strange sensation in his heart, which his look at 
Waters has induced, and says, in a colder tone: 

“ Before you die. Waters, let me tell you something 
to make your last thoughts pleasant. The hiding- 
place of Alvaroff, the traitor, has again been discov- 
ered. Before the day is gone they will be in my 
power. If you doubt it, then I will prove what I say. 
They are on a little strip of sand off the Rhode Island 
shore, in a deserted hunting box. Martin and some 
others are with them. They will be seized to-day — 
they will die to-morrow.” 

Waters starts visibly, and shuts his teeth together. 

He remains a moment silent in his amazement and 
chagrin at this statement, which he knows must be 
the truth. Then he says, quietly: 

“ I am glad to be told. I shall take less time in kill- 
ing you, therefore, in order that I may also save them. 
On guard! ” 

Waters lifts the point of his sword from the carpet 
and the two blades smite each other like the impact 
of brazen hammers. 

Count St. Mart Golfi has not stood before his cool 
antagonist a half dozen seconds before he knows that 
his task of killing him will be not the play of an am- 
ateur. He sees at once that Waters is trying his blade 
with the care, skill, and precision of a practiced master 
of fence. And while doing it he at the same time holds 
at bay the skilled swordsman of Moscow as easily as 
one keeps a feather out of his face. True, Count Golfi 
is but little more than feinting as yet to test Waters’s 
temper and craft, still he is amazed to find every action 
of his blade met like lightning and parried as if there 
were a wall of steel about this straight, supple figure, 
standing before him. He is trying the blade. Then 
suddenly, he pricks through the Count’s coat. 

It might well have been a fatal prick if it had been 
pressed, and if it had met nothing harder than the 
coat and the flesh. But the next moment Count Golfi 
knew that his defense had been discovered. Waters 
never from that moment pointed his blade at the body 
of the Count. That which he had believed, now he 
knows. Under the Count’s coat is another coat, 


DOUBLS JEOPARDY. 


205 


through which the keenest and hardest steel blade in 
the world could not go — a shirt of linked steel of a 
mesh so fine and a temper so flexible that it might al- 
most have been made of silk, but which would turn 
the keenest point ever aimed at the heart of man. 

Waters only smiles in his calm, fearless way, but 
from that moment strikes the Count no more below 
the throat. 

And even Waters will not find it so easy, it would 
seem, to strike above the throat. But he knows what 
he will do. He is willing to show the Count some 
things about the sword before he kills him. And so, 
after passing and beating on the iron defense which 
the Count interposes for a few seconds. Waters sud- 
denly becomes a devil in a steel circle of flashing mad- 
ness. It was as if heaven’s lightnings, barbed and 
terrific, were whirling in the air all around Golfi’s head. 
He meets the dreadful storm with an almost equal 
rapidity of parry and feint, until the clash of the blades 
is a continuous clamor, sounding like the roll and clat- 
ter of brazen drums, until his soul begins to tremble. 
He can stop that storm beyond his throat for a few 
minutes perhaps, but what living man could long main- 
tain that tempest of motion and assault? 

With all his wondrous power, the Russian strikes 
back, or meets with counter stroke of defense the 
whirling phantom of steel that beats and crashes and 
glitters, raining bolts of deadly wrath upon his sword. 
He grows cool and careful in his rapid defense, while 
the blazing face of the man who is slowly breaking 
him down becomes the dreadful face of an avenger. 
Count Golfi turns the edge of his blade to the fierce 
strokes. They will grow hard enough, so that his 
sword will cut Waters’s sword in two, he hopes. But 
Waters seems to remember nothing now. There is 
no cool reserve any longer — only flames and terrors 
that leap out in his fiery eyes, and glow like sullen 
embers in his cheeks. He beats the Count all around 
the room. He follows with a tread as steady and mer- 
ciless as the footsteps of doom. And ever around 
Golfi’s head the flaming sword! Clash! Crash! Crash! 
Clash! Whirr! Smite! Bang! Clang ! Whang! The 


2o6 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Count breathes heavily, while a little sardonic laugh is- 
sues from the lips of Waters. Three times has his 
blade touched the throat of Golfi, and blood is stream- 
ing down his clothing. It will take but a little more of 
this to kill. There is a desperate look creeping into 
the Count’s eyes. If he does not rally and beat back 
this incarnate hurricane that sweeps him back and 
drives him around the room, and deafens his ears with 
the clangor of the swords, he will soon go down be- 
fore it and die. He knows this, and summons his 
mighty powers for an escape from death — at least for a 
desperate resistance. The Count, in a corner, retreats 
no more. He strikes back with the energy of a devil 
in despair. He increases the tension of his weary 
spirit and of his powerful muscles. And there for two 
minutes, foot to foot, hand to hand, sword upon sword, 
those giants of a modern day smite back and forth in 
deadly crashings of fierce encounter that is like the ar- 
tillery of heaven cracking in a brazen chamber. Then 
all at once that which the Count had hoped for and 
W^aters had feared, happens. The Count, striking with 
the edge of his blade again and again near the same 
part of Waters’s sword, breaks it half way to the hilt. 

“ Now die,” shrieks the panting Golfi, as the broken 
blade falls on the carpet. 

But he does not know his man yet. 

With a whole sword Waters had been a hurricane. 
With a broken sword he becomes an avalanche. The 
Count’s blow, aimed to point his words, falls upon the 
vacant air. Waters is not there. He is everywhere 
else, however. That broken, ragged blade, striking 
like an earthquake upon the Count’s, and where there 
had been but one broken sword now there are two. 
But the Count has no time to note that he still has in 
his hand the longer weapon. He only sees a flash. 
Then there is gushing of his blood, a groan half ut- 
tered, a hurling back of his great bulk, and the career 
of Count St. Mart Golfi is forever terminated. Waters 
flings down his broken blade and stands upright and 
still for a moment, then stoops and bends over the 
Count, and would speak, but instantly sees that Golfi 
will never hear again. The fierce eyes are already 
glazing in death. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


207 


Waters rises and passes out, going down into an 
apartment where De Lani is sitting, quietly reading a 
book. De Lani has been here all through that terrific 
combat of the swords. Now and then he has heard 
the clash of the conflict faintly sounded down through 
the closed doors. He knows that the master of his 
fate and of all their fortunes has entered the house. 
Waters has warned a dozen of the Nihilists to flee, and 
to give the word forth that the den is to be raided at 
eight in the evening. And with all their allegiance 
to Count Golfi, before the supreme personality that 
for days has been warping these men under the power 
of his will, these men are now more for Waters than 
they are for Golfi. They have not obeyed the red 
order. They have merely pretended that they will 
obey it. It has been whispered about that Golfi is 
jealous of the greater man, and that the greater man 
ought to be their leader. Nevertheless, they have 
intended to obey Golfi until Waters shows himself the 
better man. They know, some of them now, that Wa- 
ters aspires to supplant Golfi, and that Waters will 
make a fight for the supremacy. The majority, how- 
ever, are still for Golfi, and hope that he will rescind the 
red order and merely send Waters back to Russia. 

But when Waters warns them that the retreat has 
been discovered, and that the assassination of the Czar 
will bring matters to a climax with the New York 
branch of the League, they know that a man has 
spoken who never speaks trifles. And he has ordered 
them to scatter and to meet, when again they meet, in 
Moscow. 

Those who would not have obeyed him as a leader 
know better than to slight his warnings as a patriot. 
And so Waters, when he came to this place, had found 
a state of things of which Count Golfi was utterly 
ignorant. The Nihilists who have been warned are 
ready to flee. Those who have not, speedily hear the 
news. And now, when John Waters finds De Lani 
sitting below, he is not surprised to hear that the house 
has been deserted while the sword combat was going 
on. It is six o’clock. He has ordered De Lani to be 
here. He has coolly announced to De Lani that he 


2o8 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


is going to meet Count Golfi, and induce him to re- 
scind the red order. De Lani knows what this means. 
He knows that they will not both come from the cham- 
ber alive. And he believes that Waters’s face has been 
seen here for the last time, because he believes in the 
invincible prowess of Count Golfi. 

But when Waters, cool, smiling, and quiet, stands 
before him like an unruffled summer day, he represses 
his astonishment, and rises to his feet to hear what 
he will say. 

“ Baron, the red order has been rescinded. I ad- 
vise you now to make a journey to Russia. There is 
time, Baron.” 

De Lani bows. 

” Count Golfi will perhaps accompany me. Do you 
go, too ?” 

” The Count will not go. The Count will go no- 
where. The Count is dead. It was his life or mine. 
I have reason yet to live for a little while. Let us not 
regret. Let me tell you, Baron, that I believe, if 
Golfi had chosen for himself, he would have chosen 
to die with a sword in his hand, in a conflict, foot to 
foot with another man also with a sword in his hand. 
I have gratified that choice. He is the first man I 
have ever killed in single combat. Baron, before he 
died he told me that detectives had been sent on the 
track of Alvaroff. Is it so? ” 

” I may as well tell you — if the Count is dead. Fer- 
rand Merki and ten picked men are on the way. Their 
hiding-place was discovered yesterday.” 

“ How many men are left here, Baron? ” 

“ Not one. Think you they desire to risk a journey 
to Siberia? ” 

“ Then I must work alone. Baron, how soon can 
you leave this house? ” 

“ In five minutes.” 

“ Good! Remain here until I return.” 

Waters goes out abruptly. He makes his way down 
flights of stairs, through dosed and secret passageways 
to the underground cellar of this house. Here at last, 
with keys which he carries, he unlocks a damp cellar 
room, into which he goes, carrying with him a lamp 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


209 


which he secured on the way down. It is Golfi’s tor- 
ture room. Here are a dozen devilish devices, brought 
from Russia, which have been used in this modern 
city by the Nihilist chief upon the flesh of men who 
had been made the victims of this League, or who be- 
came the objects of its condemnation, or who, before 
they died, were here put to the tests of pain in order to 
wring from them those secrets and confessions that 
were thought important to the welfare of Golfi and 
his associates. Strange, indeed, that these men who 
have fled from the cruelties of a medieval tyranny per- 
petuated into the nineteenth century, should wish to 
employ its devilish instruments themselves! Such is 
human nature! 

Waters proceeds to detach from the ceiling of this 
room a common instrument of torture called thumb- 
screws. These alone, with the hook and cords by 
which they had been fastened to the ceiling, he takes 
down, and places them in a small bag which he has 
taken with him to this place. Then he shuts together 
his white teeth and goes out. He examines some 
mechanism outside in the main cellar room of this base- 
ment. There are some cases in the middle of this cham- 
ber, and he knows what they contain. Wires proceed 
from these cases to the mechanism in the corner. 
Other wires run from the mechanism up through the 
floors above. Waters satisfies himself that his dy- 
namite contrivance is in working order, and then 
climbs again the stairs, and suddenly stands before 
Baron de Lani, still reading his book. 

“ Baron, I am now about to set the clock. If you 
are ready to leave, go at once.” 

The Baron makes no reply, rises, and leaves the 
room. 

Waters goes to the clock. It is stopped. He sets 
the hands at fifteen minutes past six. By his watch 
it is ten miutes past six. Then he adjusts the little 
alarm pointer upon the mark that indicates twenty 
minutes past six. 

It is fifteen minutes past six. He touches the pen- 
dulum. The clock ticks. He thinks a moment, and 
then, with a smile of joy on his face, he goes down and 
locks the door of the deserted house behind him. 


210 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


At twenty minutes past six a policeman on the beat 
near this building hears a woman scream, and feels the 
shock of a terrific explosion. Alarms are turned in, 
and as flames leap from the ruins a man standing on 
the other side of Jane Street, with a little bag in his 
hand, walks away slowly, saying under his breath: 

‘‘ It is the cremation ceremony of Count St. Mart 
Golfi.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

“ GOOD EVENING, MR. VANDERVEER.” 

At ten Vanderveer was to go out. 

At eight he gets a great surprise. 

It is the same night upon which Count Golfi has 
his last sword practice with a better man. 

There is a jail attendant who has been pointed out 
to Vanderveer as the man who will open the door for 
him at ten. 

But he is disturbed at six, when the guard is 
changed, to see that the man who is to release him is 
not in his usual place. Instead, there is another, a 
strange face, that Vanderveer has not seen before He 
fears that there has been discovery, or a slip, or some 
miscarriage of the plan. He is not a happy man. He 
almost feels that to go out is, after all, but little bet- 
ter than to stay here. If he goes out, it is to remember 
forever a face that he would fain forget, and to curse 
forever the man who had promised to be a friend and 
whom Vanderveer now believes to be the cause of all 
his misery. As the time draws near, therefore, Van- 
derveer is uneasy and half sick of his situation. Blanche 
is beautiful, and sweet, and noble — but he knows, 
whenever that other face floats into his vision, that 
he does not love Blanche — that he never will love her 
as he has loved and still loves the phantom that floats 
before him whenever he stops his mad thinking long 
enough to admit it. But he is grim and bitter now, 
and while inwardly cursing the strange fate that 
leaves him here the sport of circumstances, to choose 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


21 I 


between the chance of disgrace and death, and the 
smiles and embraces of a woman whom he can never 
love half enough to repay her great sacrifice, he pre- 
pares to make the choice and take the consequences. 
She loves him — and it is the only poor return he can 
make for her brave and forgiving assistance. 

This is the way Vanderveer looks at it at eight 
o’clock. 

At this hour the new guard alone is left in sight 
in the jail corridors. Vanderveer thinks that what- 
ever occurs will occur within two hours. He is waiting 
for ten o’clock. At eight o’clock this new guard, first 
looking all about him to be sure that he is not ob- 
served, stops at Vanderveer’s cell and thrusts a little 
paper through, dropping it inside. 

Vanderveer at once surmises that the release will be 
effected by this man instead of the other, for some rea- 
son unknown to him. He picks up the note. 

As he reads it his soul flames like a volcano. 

The faint, fine odor of a perfume lingers in it. The 
first part is in a writing that he knows, as he knows the 
music of her voice, or the light of her eyes, and it 
reads thus: 

“ Dearest: — He will release you. Follow him im- 
plicitly. Let us both love the noblest man in the 
world — save one. Do as he bids you. My arms wait 
for you, my heart is aching for you, my soul will flee 
with you. Come quickly. He will guide you. Come.” 

His brain reels. 

From her! 

From the being of beings, whom he worshiped 
more than his God! 

And he has dared to doubt her. He has dared to 
think her false. 

How he swept away, in a flash of revelation borne 
by that letter to his understanding, all his miserable 
fog of misery and skepticism. She is true. She still 
loves him. She has not gone away with Waters. She 
has not forgotten him in his peril and desolate sitAJa- 
tion. She loves him. 


212 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


And Waters! 

He turns to the other part of his note. It is in a 
fine hand, too, but different : 

“ The above will guide you. Be ready to go out 
at nine to-night. Ansel, the guard, is my man. Trust 
him freely.” 

This was signed “ J. W.” 

Vanderveer threw himself on his couch in a reac- 
tion of mingled remorse and delight. “ J. W.” That 
meant that he has wickedly wronged again a man who 
is risking life for him and for her. And she has said, 
“ Let us both love him.” 

He can not recover from his abasement. He groans 
aloud. He feels as if the earth ought to open and 
swallow him up. He has been a coward, an incon- 
stant imbecile. So he calls himself. And he kisses 
this little note, and the tears flow over it as he lies in 
his self-abasement and recalls his black and wicked 
doubts. Then he shakes himself and swings his arms 
about, and remembers that all that blackness is forever 
gone. 

But Blanche! He thinks of her, too. He thinks 
how again he has sharpened a sting for her patient 
heart. He pities her now, and shrinks from the blow 
he will drive against her pride and her love. 

For an hour this man, still distracted and excited, 
walks his cell. He thinks joyfully, then sadly, then 
remorsefully, then penitently and pityingly. He 
thinks of Blanche, then of Brauna, then of John Wa- 
ters. But he comes on the whole to a mood of joy 
through it all. He is to be free, he is to flee to her 
arms, he is to leave the shadows behind. 

The clock strikes nine! 

The new guard again looks through all the corridors. 
There is another guard sleeping at the door. He has 
been drugged. Ansel comes to Vanderveer ’s cell, 
puts his fingers to his lips, and says, softly: 

“ Now.” 

Then he. opens the door of the cell. 

The two figures creep to the outer gates of iron, 


Double jeopardy. 213 

Two guards on the way, drugged and dead asleep, 
they pass safely. 

A minute, and they are in the open air. Ansel leaves 
the keys in the locks as he passes through the doors 
and gates. They glide to a near corner. A carriage 
is there, and Ansel signals the driver, and calls to him 
in a foreign tongue — the Slavic language of Russia : 

“ There is nothing without Liberty.” 

He opens the carriage door and Vanderveer enters, 
followed by the guard. 

And as the carriage rolls away a voice in the shad- 
ows of the carriage says quietly: 

“ Good evening, Mr. Vanderveer. I congratulate 
you on the occasion.” 

He reaches out his hand in the darkness, and though 
these two men can not see, a thrill of final under- 
standing passes between them with the clasping of 
their hands. 

“ John Waters — it was God’s will to make you a 
man. I can never repay your deeds. The world 
has nothing worthy of you.” 

At eight o’clock Vanderveer received the letter. 

At nine o’clock Blanche is waiting, cloaked, in her 
apartments. 

She and Francois have returned to New York since 
the trial. They have believed that there was a plot to 
release the prisoner, but Frangois has not penetrated it. 
The nearest he has come to it is to hear Pierre say that 
he believes that man Waters is the power behind it 
all. 

And Blanche has kept from Francois everything. 
She has again made ready her web to enmesh the 
strangler. At ten she will leave the city, Vanderveer 
with her. At eleven Ruel’s men will take the strangler. 

In the carriage outside now is Pierre. She has been 
true to him, and he to her. Together they have 
schemed, together they will flee. 

Blanche has told Franqois that she will move heaven 
and earth to save Vanderveer when the trial comes, 
and that then, if he escapes, she will still pursue the 
plot they together have concocted. She even lets him 


2 14 DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

know that she is visiting the jail. But she does not 
tell him of the contemplated escape. This she con- 
ceals. She means to make that the occasion of break- 
ing forever with the strangler. So she has sent already 
that very day to a certain French restaurant, where, she 
has learned through Godby the lieutenant of Ruel 
lunches daily, a little letter, and that afternoon she has 
followed her note in person. She is not recognized. 
This emboldens her. She announces her identity to 
M. Picard, the lieutenant. He laughs at her, and re- 
marks that he believes her lying. Then in less than 
half an hour she has made her bargain. Ruel will 
not be pleased with her alone. M. Picard has not the 
least objection to trading Dodo for the strangler. 

But if he hopes to get an advantage and betray 
her he has not understood, with all that he has heard 
of this woman in Paris, what she can do as an antag- 
onist in cunning and the arts of escape. 

She has left with the detectives a messenger, who, 
at ten o’clock will lead him about the city in an aimless 
search, and bring up at the apartments of Francois, 
where she makes it sure he will be by arranging to be 
there herself on an appointment. Fran9ois shall say 
that she is coming on an important matter, and he 
will await her there. 

Thus is everything prepared. 

But at nine o’clock, while she waits in her cloak 
within, and Pierre in the carriage outside, she hears 
the bell ring. 

It is not Francois’s ring. She knows that, and this 
eases her mind. She has feared he may not be seized. 
She has feared he may turn the tables somehow at the 
last moment. Pierre has feared the same, and he 
means to watch everything. 

But in a moment there is a step on the stairs and a 
man is shown into the parlors. It is the guard that 
was to release Vanderveer. 

“ What now? Speak! ” cries Blanche, catching her 
breath. 

“ I have been laid off for the night. There is some- 
thing strange on foot.” 

“ Laid off! We have been discovered, then?” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


215 


“ I know not. If we had, why should I not have 
been put under arrest? But it is strange, madam. I 
hope you will pay me my money, all the same.” 

“ A pest on your money. I do not understand it. 
Tell me all there is to Icll,” she commands. 

“ There is a new man in my place. I have never 
seen him about before. I thought you might have 
sent him yourself.” 

Blanche stares at him, her face like marble. Is she 
defeated again? And, as before, defeated with the 
cup even at her lips? 

She says little more to the man. Counting out some 
rnoney, she gives it to him, dismissing him at the same 
time with directions when to come again, and then 
sends for Pierre, who comes at once, and is even more 
startled than Blanche had been at the news she tells 
him. 

“ It is that man Waters,” he cries, with an 
oath. “ They are going to get him out. There is yet 
time, perhaps. I will go and give the alarm to the 
sergeant. Meanwhile — Franqois ?” 

” Let that be. We will take care that M. Picard 
does not find us. If he breaks his word and looks for 
us we will not be here. Let Frangois be seized. But 
do as you have said. Prevent everything! If she 
gets him out, that is the end. Pierre, as you love me, 
now for God’s sake act quickly.” 

She has lost her poise entirely. She looks haggard 
to Pierre, as she stands under the light and thus im- 
plores him. Her resolution is great, but this second 
fatal interruption has weakened her. She has one 
weak place! She is a fatalist, and she now begins to 
fear that fate has been turned against her. But she 
will die fighting. She has lead at her heart, but she 
will not abandon her plot until she is ready to abandon 
life. She is still marvelous and decisive in her intel- 
lect. 

“ As for me, I am going to Frangois. I will assure 
myself that he is there. Meet me again at twelve, here. 
Learn everything and report. If you succeed in 
alarming the police, all well. But in any event, come 
back here by twelve.” 


2i6 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


Francois, since his return, had thought it best to 
change his apartments. He knows that Ruehs men 
are on the alert. He does not greatly resemble the 
strangler whom they seek, but the danger of being 
recognized has induced him nevertheless to seek 
quieter quarters. He had made an acquaintance in 
New York in the person of a French bookseller, who 
has a large stall in Bond Street, and lives in apart- 
ments over his store. Of him Francois has rented 
some rooms. Here he sits this same night, at half- 
past nine, waiting for Blanche to come. He does not 
know what important thing she has to tell. She has 
written him that she will be here about ten with great 
news. 

At half-past nine she comes. 

But before that hour Francois has learned that at 
ten she will betray him into the hands of M. Ruel. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

I WILL SHOW YOU THE CORD, THEN.” 

“ Ah, my love, you are prompt as ever,” he says, 
gayly, as Blanche glides in upon him. “ And you are 
quite a little weary, too, I see. Look out for the roses 
in your cheeks, beautiful Dodo. They have earned 
us a fortune. And you promised once on your honor 
that they should not fade until you are as old as a 
grandmother. What has made them pale, I won- 
der?” 

The woman laughs, seating herself familiarly on a 
cushioned settee. 

“ It is my disappointment, of course. Did I not 
tell you how I adore Vanderveer? And I have 
been through a good deal, have I not? But I keep 
my promise. It is not enough to destroy the roses. 
I shall bloom again fresher than ever after I get him 
out of jail.” 

“ And how comes on the matter, pray? You have 
talked with the lawyers? ” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


217 


“ It will be easy to get him off on the murder charge 
— that everybody knows. But that odious, stupid 
Knowlton will send him to Sing Sing. If they do not 
clear him, then I have a plan to get him off some other 
way. We want the money, do we not? ” 

“ Who can say? We thought so — but I have been 
feeling of late that it would be much better for you 
to be poor.” 

“ In order that I might want the money more — that 
is what you would say? ” 

“ No! In order that I might regulate you with 
greater ease, Dodo, my pet.” 

“ Ha, ha! So you are ready to confess that I am a 
trifle independent and irrepressible, are you? Good! 
It is the very point to which I wish to bring you. Ah, 

Francois, who would have a master? Not I, believe 

....... ” 

me. 

She flashes her blue eyes at him piquantly, and fails 
to understand the faint undertone of threat in all his 
manner. 

“A master! Well, if you have but one it is very 
well. It is the other to whom I should like to object.” 

“ The other? But I have none at all. Yet it is de- 
licious to know how jealous you can be. I really 
would like to have Vanderveer for a master. He 
is a god, don’t you know — not a mere mortal. But it 
isn’t expedient, so I will have no master at all. Why 
should I?” 

“ Because you need regulating. I think so more 
and more.” 

“ I admit it. But what a lot for the man who at- 
tempts it! Why, he would be better situated in hell.” 

The daring creature laughs again, and tosses her 
head in a scoff of conceit. 

“ Oh, that goes without saying. Still, I am inclined 
to break off the Vanderveer affair. It wearies me.” 

“ That is because you do not appreciate my infatua- 
tion. You merely think it is the sordid cash I work 
for. But it is not. It is the man himself.” 

“ What will you do with him, then, when you get 
him?” 

“ Oh, I divide fair. If I feel like it, I may propose a 


2i8 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


compromise with the strangler. I will say to him 
thus: Francois, I like the god and the god likes me. 
Take all the money your conscience will let you and 
leave me the god. In a year, if the god is too saintly, 
and tires me, I will come back for more adventures. 
What would the strangler say? ” 

She was merely passing the time. She believes that 
about eleven o’clock the strangler will end his career. 
And she is willing to entertain him here until it is 
certain that he will not go out that night. 

“ Oh, I was about to suggest the same thing — I 
have been about to suggest it a dozen times, Dodo, 
dear. I have little fear that you will be able to stay 
away from me a six-month. It is the money I want. 
If you have half the fancy I suspect you of for this 
American dude, it is a good riddance — of course.” 

He laughs in a strained way that causes Blanche to 
look at him fixedly. She feels, in spite of her nerve, 
a little creeping of fear at his manner. He is too quiet. 
He is making an effort to be quiet. He has something 
under his exterior that puts her on guard more and 
more. 

“ It is not the first time we have been agreed, then, 
dear. But when the time really comes you will rave 
and pull your hair and beg and entreat me not to go. 
I know you, jealous Frangois!” 

“ Bah ! And you really think yourself indispensable 
to me, then? It is a mere fancy. Ah, Dodo, we have 
been a remarkable pair together, have we not? Truly 
we ought to be indispensable to each other. Never 
will such a pair come together again while the ages 
run. And do you know that of late I have had bad 
dreams. I have dreamed again and again that I re- 
sumed the life of the strangler in the Rue Navarin. 
And ever I was strangling ” 

He pauses, with a soft little glitter in his eyes, and 
looks at Blanche. She did not make any outward 
sign, but in her heart she felt a chill as the chill of a 
dungeon. She only laughs, however, and purposely 
perverting his sentence, she finished it without a quav- 
er of the voice. 

“ Yes. That you were strangling the god. Pshaw! 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


2I9 

Have you not learned that dreams go by contraries? 
He will live to walk over both our graves. But don’t 
be so ghastly with your bad dreams. Dream some- 
thing good. Dream of me. There is not a sweeter 
dream, I am sure.” 

As she talks, quite imperceptibly this woman, now 
on guard with all the tense alertness of her nerves, 
steals her hand into the folds of her dress until it 
rests upon the hilt of her little poisoned dagger. She 
is aroused by the sly, quiet manner of the man before 
her. She feels certain that there is somewhere a dan- 
ger. But she talks on, and laughs at him, and flings 
her sparkling glances at him as if she were as much at 
ease as a bird in a tree, while he is studying the situa- 
tion and planning his deadly work. 

“ It is because I dream of you that I am so moody 
nowadays. It is only the other night I saw you in my 
dream again at the house of the Minister of Justice, 
and you had in your hand the cord that Boutilliere, the 
inkmaker’s apprentice, once attempted to use when I 
prevented him. I dreamed that you ” 

“Bah! A fig for dreams! You should have 
dreamed that I put it around the neck of the Minister 
of Justice. Dreams are follies. Your digestion is 
irregular, I am certain. Let the cord be forgotten.” 

“ Forgotten, Dodo? Never! It is too delightful. 
What! forget the foundation of all my fortune? If I 
had not been a strangler then I never should have 
found you, and if I had not found you ” 

“ Then you would never have succeeded. Certainly 
not.” 

“ Certainly not. But I was telling you the dream.” 

“ Don’t then. Remember the cord if you like. You 
are very fond of recalling Boutilliere and the cord. But 
we left all that behind in Paris. I wrote you I had an 
important piece of news, }iion cher — and you do not 
even remember to be curious. Guess, now, what it 
is?” 

“ Bah! You think it was left in Paris. It is a mis- 
take. I will tell you where the cord is, then I will 
hear your news. Very well. It is now in my pocket.” 

“ Parbleu! What shocking taste, Frangois. Keep 


420 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


it there, then. You like to astonish me — and I am not 
astonished — I am merely disgusted. Your inventions 
are cheap. I could tell you a fiction much more plaus- 
ible than that.” 

Frangois looks at her with an increasing threat in 
his eyes. Unconsciously to herself she has begun to 
betray her consciousness that he is threatening her, in 
her tone of defiance. 

“ Fiction? I will show you the cord, then,” says 
Francois, with a smile that makes her blood chill. 

“ Pray show nothing. You see I have penetrated 
your miserable fiction. It is like you. Monsieur 
d’Avigne. You were always studying effects. It 
doesn’t really pay. I am a dramatist myself, and I 
see through the tricks of the art. If you have a cord 
it was made in New York yesterday, and you bring it 
here to strike me with gratitude for that old favor. 
But I am as callous as stone. It served you more than 
me. It is quits. Do not remind me of Boutilliere 
again. He was guillotined.” 

“Ah, fearless Dodo! You are as delightful now 
as on that night when you did not even turn pale as 
Boutilliere took the cord from its hook. I even be- 
lieve if you had been strangled you would never have 
flinched.” 

She is smiling no more now. She knows what all 
this talk has meant. He sees that she is afraid, but 
he does not yet know how accurate are her intuitions. 
She knows what that cord means that Franqois has in 
his pocket. She knows that he has somehow discov- 
ered her treachery. She knows that the climax is com- 
ing. She knows that this vindictive and terrible 
strangler will kill her if he can before she leaves this 
room. And she means not to be killed. She means, 
rather to kill. 

But now, knowdng herself to be face to face with a 
crisis, all her fear goes away. She is as watchful as a 
cat. She is half hoping the struggle will come very 
soon. She is half resolved to make assurance sure 
by striking the first blow. She keeps her brain ac- 
tive looking for a good opening. Nothing could 
more certainly assure her that Frangois means her de- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


221 


struction than his words and manner. She wonders 
how he has discovered her treachery. She does not 
know that every motion of M. Ruel for weeks has 
been reported three times a day to Francois. She does 
not know that no one can talk to M. Ruel or enter 
his presence without Francois’s knowledge. She 
knows still less that when she visited the Frenchman 
in disguise, before a half hour had passed Francois 
knew the very words of her interview. 

“ Let us change the subject, then,” he remarks, non- 
chalantly. “ You have some news. I am very curi- 
ous — notwithstanding your accusation to the con- 
trary.” 

” Oh, I have decided not to tell it now. I am of- 
fended at your indifference. I will tantalize you until 
you come over to see me to-morrow.” 

She has assumed an easier air, and Francois is a lit- 
tle deceived. He supposes that she is off her guard 
again, and that his cunning has removed her fear. He 
therefore pretends to become gay and affable and 
laughs, showing his white teeth agleam under his 
mustache. 

” Do as you like,” he says, rising from his chair, 
carelessly. ” I thought it was merely an excuse to 
make me a call. Did I not say that you are unable to 
keep away from me? As to your news — if it keeps 
until to-morrow you may have something better still 
to say.” 

He goes to a window, pretending to look out into 
the dimly-lighted street. 

With his back to her, however, he reaches his hand 
into his pocket and draws forth Boutilliere’s cord. It 
is a small, red, silken cord — small enough to be en- 
closed in his clasped hand nearly without showing. 

But she is not deceived. She knows, when he rises 
and goes to the window that in the mood which his 
soft, glittering eyes have betrayed, he is making a 
preparation. When he turns his back with his hand 
out of her sight she knows as well as if she saw it 
that he is preparing. 

But she sits as if musing on a sweet thought, and 
says softly to him: 


222 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ You have an elegant tailor, Monsieur d’Avigne. 
Your coat fits as if it grew on you. I almost think 
you were born to be a gentleman.” 

She has spoken on her settee for a purpose. If 
Francois thinks he has for a victim a woman capable 
of being surprised, he is about to learn to his cost what 
sometimes follows a false supposition. She has 
spoken on the settee that he may be sure she has not 
changed her position. But the instant she has ceased 
speaking, she draws her skirts about her ankles so they 
do not rustle so much as the whisper of a blade of 
grass. She glides like a snake. She darts like a flash of 
sunshine. Fran<;ois is turning, expecting to see her 
on the settee. He is turning with his nerves all taut 
for his dreadful attempt. He turns, intending to sweep 
like a devilish beast of prey upon Dodo, and circle her 
white neck with his cord. He will then be revenged. 
He will then be rid of her. He will then repay her 
treachery. 

But in his instant glance he sees she is not there. 
And he sees no more clearly from that instant. Be- 
fore he can tell where she is he feels the quick pang of 
her dagger in his back. She strikes like a merciless 
assassin — twice, thrice, before his quick instinct of 
defense has enabled him, active as a tiger, to turn 
and seize her hand. It is her left hand, not the dag- 
ger hand. With a savage stroke her little dagger 
falls on his hand, grasping hers, and forces him to re- 
lease it, while he gives a bellow of pain. But after that 
there is no sound from either, save the fierce panting 
of the breath. 

The strangler knows in an instant that he has not 
five minutes to live. He knows that upon the point 
of her dreadful dagger, and all along its sides, is 
enough poison to kill twenty men, though they had 
twice the vitality that runs in his frame. But his 
strength is not yet impaired. He will die, but dying, 
he has time to kill. He knows his mistake. He who 
was about to attack has been attacked, and by a woman 
who is as bloody and desperate as any fiend that ever 
vexed history. She is Dodo now, the same Dodo who 
did with him the dreadful deed of the Rue Navarin^ 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 223 

the Dodo who lias as little compunction at stabbing 
him in his back as she would have had in pinning a 
fly to the wall. 

But he stays her dagger by smiting her arm away. 
He would have seized her, but he could not. She 
knew too well the fate that awaited her if he should 
get her white throat in his fingers. Before he could 
move almost she is up the room, her poinard dripping 
with his blood in her hand, smiling at him now with 
the fixed, sardonic smile of a beautiful satyr. 

“ You have Boutillierre’s cord in your hand. What 
is that for, I wonder? ” 

Francois darts at her with all his agility. But she 
eludes him. Again he dashes after her. He is bleed- 
ing. He is about to die. He sees her in the corner of 
the chamber. He rallies all his powers to reach her. 

Fran(;ois, in the dizzy agonies of the poison in his 
blood, fast turning it to water, retains his senses even 
while his eyes flash before him as if shot from their 
sockets, and converted into ray points of fire. He 
rushes at the set, ghastly, mocking face in the corner 
with the fierce energy of a madman, and so lightning- 
like is his sweep upon her that she can not elude him. 
She nearly succeeds, but the demon’s hand is on her 
shoulder, and then clutches her arm like the closing of 
iron jaws. She turns again and her dagger flashes 
about. But now return to this criminal all the horrid 
instincts of the strangler. He cares for the dagger no 
more. With all his powerful strength he holds her 
off, twists her form about, and then, as by a sudden 
practiced movement, the little red cord goes over 
her head. She knows it. She sweeps up her hands 
to prevent it from tightening. Too late! Already it is 
about her white throat. She leaps at him while she 
can, like a tigress. He has released her while he wields 
the cord, for he believes the cord will be enough. 
Like a desperate animal she flings herself at Fran- 
cois, and smites him again with her dagger. He 
merely tightens the cord, and then whirls her away 
again, and turns her about so that she can strike him 
no more. She chokes and knows that he has left yet 
strength to kill! Her frenzied hands clutch at Bou- 


224 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


tilliere’s cord. It will not even give room for a finger 
to intervene. Francois, with all the devilish instinct of 
his former craft, is tightening and tightening and 
tightening the horrible instrument of death. The fiery 
sparkles are leaping in her vision. Silent and inexor- 
able the strangler holds her, writhing, twisting, chok- 
ing in the unutterable pangs of strangulation. She 
sways about. She strains to tear herself away from that 
deadly clutch that binds her throat and will not let her 
desperate breath issue. Her breast heaves in the ter- 
rific and vain labor of vital agitations. Darkness 
with sparkling flashes, and dull, horrid rumbling noises 
in her ears begin to rob her of sense. Her struggle 
is no longer with intelligence, but merely the awful 
protest of her enduring physical nature raging against 
destruction. Francois knows, even though himself 
ready to die, the signs of this weakening struggle. He 
becomes savage in his unspeakable dying madness. He 
twists the cord and growls like a beast in his lair. 
Then the end comes. 

There is one last desperate writhing, a shuddering 
of that sensuous body, and with another insane growl 
the strangler, feeling her limp and unresisting, and 
sinking in dissolution, flings her body down on the 
carpet, where a blackened and ghastly face turns up 
to meet his eyes that can no longer distinguish it nor 
see the face of the dead. He, too, is dying. The 
poison of the dagger is rioting in the scorching fevers 
of his blood, that is also flowing from twenty wounds 
and covering him like a crimson horror. He reels 
about. He seeks to reach the air. He staggers to a 
window and succeeds with his weakening arms in fling- 
ing up the sash. He attempts to make an outcry. He 
wishes some one would come to save him. The mad- 
ness of innumerable flashlights floats in his brain, the 
fires of untold agonies are shooting in his stiffening 
muscles. All objects merge into one lurid, flickering 
fog of mingled fire and darkness. He reels all about 
the chamber. He strikes objects and feels them not. 
Shapes begin to become as expanding and receding 
vistas of snaky horror stretching out into • fathomless 
lengths and breadths. He tears off his collar and era- 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


225 


vat with fingers that rage to relieve that laboring 
breath. He sees the fires darkening and the sparkles 
become dull and fade into night. He falls, struggles 
up again, and staggers about some more. Will he 
never die? Yes. When God has made his end ter- 
rible enough. For at last the dim shade that reels all 
about his vision suddenly sweeps up at him from every 
side, and the floor smites him in the face. Then the 
final roar, the gasp of dissolution. And as he falls, he 
falls close beside Dodo. And when in the morning the 
French bookseller finds them, they lie here as they 
have lived — together, both blackened faces upstaring 
like a vision of the damned, dead upon the floor. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

LET THIS MAN SEE HOW THEY DO IT IN ST. PETERS- 
BURG.'" 


A little strip of sand. 

Against it is the wash of the ocean. Behind it is a 
channel and the Rhode Island shore. 

It has taken time for Merki to find it, and to make 
sure that the fugitives are there. And he knows by 
this time that they have help, and that it will be wise 
to work with proper caution. 

Nevertheless Merki understands that it is well to 
make all possible haste. He is not sorry there is likely 
to be some resistance. He hopes that if there is, the 
excuse will be all the better for the assassination which 
he intends. He has men enough with him, he believes, 
to effect the capture or the death of Alvaroff and his 
daughter. And he understands that he is ordered to 
execute the red order that Golfi has issued against 

^^He has waited onlv for night. Under coyer of the 
shore he will then embark his men m their boats and 
sweep down on the strip of sand. Then let them look 
out. It is their last loop in a history of escapes. 

And they are here! They have been made comfort- 


226 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


able in the little shooting-box, which, in fact, belongs 
to Vanderveer. Martin and two more faithful men, 
who now obey only Waters, and who have forsaken 
the fortunes of Golfi, are with them. And Martin has 
discovered that there is danger. Going to the main- 
land that very afternoon he has seen signs of enemies. 
He has told all he knows to Alvaroff, and now they 
are watchful and alert. They have been informed that 
at any hour now Waters may be here to take them 
away. And just as night is setting in, Martin has seen 
the smoke of a steamer far down in the Sound, which 
he reports as being very possibly the steam yacht. 

But when the night falls the moon comes out a dim 
crescent in the sky, and Martin posts a man at either 
end of the islet to make sure no one surprises them. 
One of these men, after a time watching toward the 
mainland, hears a sound of oars the other way, and, 
hastening across the sandbar, is overjoyed to find 
Waters himself and a half-dozen men, and with him 
Vanderveer. They hasten to the hut, the sentinel in- 
forming Waters on the way of Martin’s suspicions. 

“ We are not too late, then, Vanderveer. Merki has 
been delayed some, it would seem. All is now well.” 

Vanderveer is silent and agitated. In a moment he 
will be in her presence. 

Waters orders his men to various parts. Two are 
left to guard the boats, of which now they have three, 
all drawn up in the beach grass at convenient locations. 
Others are ordered to keep in the shadows and report 
to him at once the approach of any boat from the 
mainland side. 

Then, with Vanderveer, he goes inside. The little 
cabin has two rooms. In the outer room Waters 
leaves Vanderveer, and after a moment gains admis- 
sion to the other. Alvaroff and his daughter, seated 
together in silence, rise with joy in their faces, and 
welcomed him once more. When the greetings are 
over. Waters says, softly: 

“ I wish to drive you out now. Miss Alvaroff — shall 
I say Mrs. M ” 

“ No! I have never borne that name. Say Brauna, 
if you will, Mr. Waters. I feel as if our trials were 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


227 


about to end. To you we owe all this. May God re- 
ward you.” 

“ Say nothing about it. I have left somebody out- 
side. Go! ” 

She understands. Her face grows as the radi- 
ance of a dawn in June. She sweeps out and stands 
before him. All the world at that moment was as va- 
cant space, while love claimed its own. 

Waters, on conferring with Martin, determines in 
his mind that there will be a demonstration before 
morning, and makes his preparations accordingly. He 
has force enough for a successful defense, but he has 
more than a defense in view. 

The night wears on. x\bout midnight Waters sees 
a black hulk far away on the ocean, which on studying 
he feels sure is his looked-for steam yacht, an elegant 
vessel, manned and provisioned for a voyage across 
the sea. He knows that according to their orders they 
would lie off and on until morning before exchanging 
signals. He reports her arrival to the fugitives, and 
assures them that they have but one night more of 
hardship in this place. 

” And that is already more than half gone,” he adds, 
with a smile. 

But there are others who have seen the vessel in the 
offing. Ferrand Merki and his fellows, preparing to 
swoop in upon their prey,- and having the impression 
that only a feeble force will be there to oppose them, 
have observed this yacht two or three miles from the 
shore. It is light enough to see her general build, 
and Merki believes at once that in her the fugitives 
will try that very night to escape him. As soon, there- 
fore, as he can get ready his crew in two boats, they 
leave the shore and steal out across the channel toward 
the sandy islet. 

Martin sees the boats almost as soon as they leave 
the shore. He reports them to Waters. Waters pre- 
dicts that Merki will merely patrol the island with the 
boats to make, sure they do not embark, and wait for 
daylight to attempt their capture. This in part proved 
to be the issue; in part it did not. Merki sent one of 
the boats with a party of his men skirting the 


228 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


islet, around which they could row in twenty minutes, 
and landed with the remainder on the end of the sand 
strip. He knows he can not prevent being seen and 
makes no effort to conceal the approach of the boats. 

But, seeing nothing living as he lands, he bids his 
men sit down in the beach grass and wait, while he 
reconnoiters a little on his own account. 

Merki does not know that John Waters is on the 
sand strip. He has started out under commission by 
Golfi, and, spurred by his own desires, to make an end 
of this troublesome business that has plagued him so 
long. He has come to the conclusion that Golfi, or 
Golfi’s men, are somehow very inefficient. Were it 
not so, he thinks, then those whom he wishes out of 
the world would long ago have died. Merki believes 
that the trial and acquittal in court was planned by the 
Alvaroffs themselves, with the aid of Vanderveer, the 
lover. But he sees clearly that his scheme of revenging 
himself upon Brauna and of possessing the fortune of 
her father has been cut off by that trial, and unless he 
now takes a desperate course his schemes will fail. 
He is entirely capable of a desperate course. He 
thinks this strip of sand is beyond the reach of any 
probable interference by the constituted authorities. 
He can strike here, can even shed blood and take hu- 
man life, and none will ever bring him to judgment. 
The League, he thinks, is powerful to shield its agents, 
and though these fugitives have been cleared by the 
courts, there is no one interested in them who has the 
power to punish Merki, if he succeeds in his black 
purpose. Besides, this cunning wretch does not mean 
to leave any tracks. He will capture them, so he 
plans, and cause them to disappear. There will be no 
consequences. 

He thinks he will make a little exploration of the 
sand strip and determine from his reconnoissance what 
course is the best in shaping his attack on the cabin. 
He is on the whole a measurably daring man, and feels 
no fear of anything he may chance to encounter. He 
takes it for granted that he has his intended victims 
cooped up here safely, and that he has only to seize 
them. He believes they will fear him, and the force 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


220 


he brings, far more than he needs to fear them, even 
if they resist. 

In this confidence he is less cautious than he might 
be, as he walks along inspecting the sand strip. He 
does not, therefore, see the crouching form of Waters 
in the shadow of the scrubby foliage as he passes by. 

His first warning of danger is a hand of iron on his 
shoulder and the voice of Waters in his ears, com- 
manding: 

“ Make a sound, and I will strangle you.” 

When Merki feels the hand on his shoulder, startled 
but resolute, he instantly calls loudly to his men. He 
calls but once. Before his breath is fairly out it is 
cut off by a hand on his throat, and like a child in the 
grasp of a giant, he is hurled violently to the earth. 
But with the agility of a cat, he is on his feet again, 
striving to wrench himself from that iron clutch, at 
the same time feeling for his knife or pistol. But 
with a few savage motions. Waters, grasping his arms, 
binds them, holding Merki’s face in the sand while he 
does it, to cut olf his cries. Then, jerking him to his 
feet. Waters stuffs a handkerchief in his mouth, and, 
with the assistance of Benonski, who has now come 
upon the scene, drags him to the cabin. 

Meanwhile, Merki’s single outcry has been heard 
by his men, and there is confusion among them. Wa- 
ters and Benonski, pausing to look about before they 
go inside, can see their dark forms down by the end 
of the sand strip where they had landed. 

“ We have time, Benonski. Tell Martin to guard 
carefully. They will not get far if they try to come 
on here. In fifteen minutes more we will take the 
boats and try to reach the steamer. Then come in 
here. I may want you.” 

Martin is set on the alert with his men, and they 
crawl in the beach grass until they have formed a line 
quite across the sand strip, between the cabin and the 
end of the island where Merki’s men are still seen. 

Waters pushes the enraged and breathless Merki 
into the cabin. He has not yet been harmed much, 
though his neck is aching still with the hard clutch 
of those resistless fingers, and his mouth and eyes 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


^30 

are well filled with the sand into which Waters had 
driven his face. But inside he soon is able to see. 

Dragging him to a chair, Waters forces him into it, 
just as Benonski returns, and the two men stand, eye- 
ing the prisoner with varying thoughts. 

“ Now,” says John Waters, with a ring in his tone 
that Benonski has never heard before, “ I will thank 
you, Mr. Ferrand Merki, as you call yourself, to an- 
swer me a question or two.” 

Attracted by the noise, Alvaroff, Brauna and Van- 
derveer now come in from the other room. 

Brauna is behind her father, but catching sight of 
the figure in the chair, recognizable even in spite of the 
sand and bedragglement, she gives a low exclamation 
of horror and surprise, and shrinks along the wall, 
staring at him, as she cries: 

“ My God! It is Merki.” 

Waters watches her with sympathy, while Van- 
derveer hastens to support her on one side, and Al- 
varoff, but little less astounded, on the other. 

“ This man figures as Ferrand Merki. I am about 
to ascertain why he has enacted that falsehood,” re- 
marks Waters, coolly, then commands: “ Stand up! ” 

Merki, in spite of himself, is brought to his feet 
by the voice alone. He looks around. He sees the 
sad, horrified face of the woman. He sees the puz- 
zled look of Benonski, and the calm, searching ex- 
pression on the face of Alvaroff. Then he looks at 
Waters. 

“ 1 wish you now to disavow this lie that you have 
concocted. I will give you time to tell the truth. 
What is your name? ” 

The man is getting catlike again, and crafty. He 
does not know the meaning of all this, but he sees that 
Waters, at least, of this group does not believe him to 
be Ferrand Merki. 

“ I am Ferrand Merki. Who else should I be? 
This woman is my wife. Why have you assaulted 
me?” 

“ You lie!” 

There grows now that flame of anger in Waters’s 
eye that might have been a warning to a wiser man 
than Merki. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


231 


“ Oh, very well, then! Why do you ask me? Per- 
haps for the satisfaction of telling me that I lie. Who 
are you, then? You ask questions as if you ” 

“ Stop! I want them answered. Benonski, put up 
the screws.” 

Merki, hearing this, grows a shade paler. 

“ Look out, now,” he says, with a vicious snarl. “ I 
have a later day in which to pay you for this.” 

Brauna, recovering now, begins to comprehend 
what Waters means. She is listening to Merki’s 
voice. She is hearing the same tones she hated seven 
years ago, but she is brave now, buoyed by the pow- 
erful, subtle influence of John Waters’s presence. She 
is beginning to hope he will disprove this miracle of a 
hateful husband, apparently risen from the dead. 

Benonski at once produces the thumbscrews that 
Waters has brought from the torture chamber in Jane 
Street. Alvaroff, looking on, gives a nod and a gesture 
of approval. 

“ You have less than a minute in which to make 
up your mind,” says Waters. “As to being paid — 
count yourself a lucky man if you leave this room 
alive. I have already disproved your falsehood. Al- 
varoff, you see this wretch does not know me. If he 
were Ferrand Merki he would not forget me until he 
forgot his mother who bore him. Now I will find 
out who he is.” 

Benonski coolly fastens his hooks to the low ceil- 
ing, and adjusts the cords. Merki looks on with a 
scornful smile. He keeps so far an outward sem- 
blance of courage. The thumbscrews, however, strike 
terror to his heart. 

“ Now, you scoundrel, tell me who you are. Fer- 
rand Merki is dead. That is entirely beyond doubt. 
You have framed a plot. You wish to kill Dimitri 
Alvaroff and his daughter and then claim his fortune. 
You have learned well the story of the marriage in 
Moscow. You have learned of the murder of Merki. 
You are trying to impersonate him. You resemble 
him.” 

“ Idiot,” snarls Merki, fighting off to the last, “ I 
will prove that I am Merki by a hundred witnesses. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. ^32 

Great God! Have I not her dagger scars in my 
back?” 

“ Strip that man’s back, Benonski. If you wish to 
retire ” 

He says this last to Brauna, but she remains. Deli- 
cacy, even, can not now be intruded above this start- 
ling investigation. Benonski, using his knife, soon 
strips off the coverings from Merki’s back. He car- 
ries the light near and they crowd closer to look. 

But Waters says coldly:^ 

“ Bring me some vinegar.” 

There is some in the inner room, which serves for a 
kitchen, and it is soon forthcoming. Merki growls 
scornfully at this. 

“ What idiocy will you do now? If my hands were 
free you would soon ” 

“ I shall set them free as soon as I see whether these 
scars are dagger marks. Alvaroff, you are a surgeon 
— tell me if you ever knew dagger marks to wash 
off with vinegar? ” 

With this bold surmise, which, indeed, is only a 
surmise. Waters takes a piece of his handkerchief and 
saturates it with the vinegar. They watch him with 
anxiety. He is undertaking to show that the woman 
he loves and that Vanderveer loves is not a wife but a 
widow. 

In a minute Waters, with a tender smile at Brauna, 
drops his handkerchief. 

“ Have no fear,” he laughs. ” You are quite as 
free as if this fellow had never vexed the earth as a 
living lie. The scars are made. They are merely 
stains.” 

Then he makes a little sign to Benonski, who at 
once cuts the cords with which they have bound Mer- 
ki’s hands. He is glaring about savagely, watching 
every instant for a chance to escape. He realizes that 
his course is run out. His cunning scars have been 
undone. They have deceived Golfi and have given 
his fraud credence. It has remained for a shrewder 
man than Golfi to use his reason and some vinegar. 
His reason assured him that Ferrand Merki died. His 
vinegar has sponged out the spots. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


233 


Finding his hands free, Merki looks about sharply 
with his furtive eyes, and is about to spring like a 
cat for the door, when Waters seizes his wrists. 

“ Adjust them,” he commands, “ to Benonski.” 

Merki, seeing his peril at the hands of this resolute 
man, begins to struggle like a fiend. Again he finds 
his master. Waters simply holds him with the grip 
of a Titan while Benonski fastens the instruments upon 
his thumbs. 

Thus secured, his hands are drawn up by a pull at 
the cords above his head, where to wrench or draw 
upon them would only be to his own discomfort. It 
is all done as easily as one ties up a meal sack, in spite 
of Merki’s struggles. 

“ What is your name? ” says Waters, in that ter- 
rible voice that made even Alvaroff and Benonski 
shrink. 

“ Ferrand Merki. I told you before.” 

Waters makes no answer, but an imperious little 
gesture. Benonski understands, and manipulates the 
screws. 

Merki clenches his teeth and turns a little whiter. 

“ Let up and hear me out then,” he says, scowling 
at the beginning of his pain. “ I admit that the scars 
were doctored. I can tell you why. The dagger was 
a mere stiletto. It left no marks to speak about. They 
healed up and turned white, and have nearly or quite 
disappeared. If you look very closely I think they 
can still be seen. I doctored them to convince Golfi 
— and others, of my real identity. When the dagger 
struck — she was not very powerful — it did not go deep 
enough to kill.” 

He is cunning and persistent to the last. He tells 
this new lie as well as he had told the first one. 

“ You will be ready to tell the truth when you can’t 
avoid it,” sneers Waters. “ Benonski, let this man 
see how they do it in St. Petersburg.” 

Benonski does not need another word, and the next 
minute Merki gives an unearthly shriek as the thumb- 
screws began to bend back his thumbs and raise him 
upon his toes. He could not endure it long. Waters 
knows that. 


234 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ The truth, now,’’ thunders Waters, like a Neme- 
sis, in his ears. 

Merki bears it a little more, growling like a beast 
between his clenched teeth and pallid lips: 

“ I have told all. That woman wounded me seven 
years ago. She only wounded me. I lived and es- 
caped. My body was sold to the medical students. 
They will tell you that when they came for it they did 
not secure it. I can prove every word. Now will you 
let me down and ” 

He is cut short by the stern gesture of Waters and 
another sharp turn on the screws. His face grows 
ashen with agony. 

“ Let me down, let me down — I will tell all,” he 
bellows. 

” Tell, then. Tell, you devil, or I will twist your 
thumbs from your wrists, as God hears me.” 

The group of witnesses looking on, awed, pallid, and 
entranced, in dead silence wait for the tortured man to 
speak. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

“ I HAVE KEPT MY WORD.” 

“ I am Hadrovitch Merki. I am Ferrand Merki’s 
twin brother. Ferrand Merki is dead. That woman 
murdered him.” 

Merki says this between his sharp breath, his face 
contorted with the agony of the thumbscrews. Wa- 
ters smiles contentedly, then beckons Benonski to 
let Merki down upon his feet, where the screws mostly 
release him from their agonizing clutch. 

“You have told the truth,” says Waters, simply. 
“ But I wish to hear you talk a little farther. You have 
investigated the murder of your brother, if it was a 
murder. Who killed him? ” 

“ Who? Why, you know. Everybody knows. 
That woman killed him. Why else should I follow 
her? He was my only brother. I heard of his death 
and I swore never to rest until she and he (pointing 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


^35 


to Alvaroff) were both done for. It was a later 
thought — that of playing that I am Ferrand. I in- 
tended to take my revenge and their money, too. But 
there is still time. If I escape this alive I will not for- 
get her dagger. She killed him wickedly.” 

It is false. Merki, I see that you do not believe 
this. If vou know who did, then I want you now to 
tell.” 

Waters stops and looks sharply at the prisoner. 
He is on uncertain ground now. He has disproved 
the great and wicked fraud. But still he has not ac- 
complished all his purpose. At that moment there is 
a thunderclap from a clear sky. It comes from Be- 
nonski, who steps forward with head downcast, say- 
ing: 

“ It is useless to question him. Mr. Waters, Miss 
Brauna, Mr. Vanderveer, I myself killed that devil. 
It was the best deed of my life.” 

“ You?” they all cry, in profound astonishment. 

Even Waters had never looked for this. They all 
stare at Benonski, as he goes on: 

“ It is true. Did I not tell you I had and have ever 
had the power to save you? I had only to go to the 
gallows. I would have done it. But not as long as 
there was any other way. I have been a base coward 
— but I believed you would be saved another way. 
You know I was in the house that day. I knew Merki 
in Moscow. You, dear mistress, you do not remem- 
ber well that you confided in me when you dared not 
even confide in your father? It was I who advised 
you to marry him, for I feared otherwise that you 
would both be sent to Siberia. It was I who helped 
deceive you, master, when she declared that she would 
marry Merki from her own choice. I was to blame. 
She was but a child, but I was a man. I hated that 
devil who had us all in his power. Yet I advised the 
marriage. But when we reached America, and I knew 
how she. too, hated him, and how he was plotting to 
enforce his claim and torment her with his wicked face, 
and make her a wife in fact, as she then was only in 
lavv — well — he was in the house to threaten her and 
you. He began on me. I deceived him, and declared 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

that you were about to accept him as a husband and 
make the best of the case. Then he turned his back, 
and a sudden impulse seized me that I could not re- 
sist. I killed him. I am glad. I should regret kill- 
ing a tiger more.” 

“ As God lives, he is speaking the truth, Brauna, 
the mystery is cleared,” cries Alvaroff. 

Brauna only stares at him, stunned by this won- 
derful revelation. 

Then John Waters goes to Merki and unbinds his 
hands, saying: 

“ You now see that you have no mission against this 
woman and her father. Merki, you may go.” 

Hadrovitch Merki glares around him a moment. 
His thumbs are numbing with the recent torture. His 
plots have vanished. But there remains one intense 
thought burning in his confused brain. His brother 
had been slain and he for years had remembered it 
with the malice and vengefulness of a demon. Now 
he has heard the truth. He knows from the ring in 
Benonski’s voice that it is the truth. He is raging 
with humiliation at the treatment he has been receiv- 
ing. He wonders why his men do not come and 
rescue him. He wishes for a day to come when he 
can put the thumbscrews on this iron fellow who has 
tortured him and repay the debt. His eyes fix them- 
selves on Benonski. Waters, stepping back, notices 
this. But before he can speak, Merki acts. He 
crouches like the cat he is, and leaps at Benonski. 
Before Waters can drag him away, he has thrown 
Benonski heavily down and crashed his fists in his 
face with all the force with which he can strike. 

Then he feels the grip of Waters again, and is 
dragged away. Benonski, bruised and bleeding, strug- 
gles up and staggers to a seat. 

“ I will remember you later. There is another day 
for all of you,” threatens Merki, in a hoarse voice, as he 
rushes from the cabin. 

“ He will not be able to trouble us much now,” says 
Waters, coming back into the cabin. ” Let us be off.” 

They are soon in readiness. Vanderveer and 
Brauna standing together in the outer room of the 
cabin, Waters calls Vanderveer apart. 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


237 


“ The proprieties must stand, Mr. Vanderveer,” he 
says, with a pleasant little laugh. “ And I have pro- 
vided that they shall. As it is quite plain that she is 
a widow and no wife — well, you are to go on a voyage 
together. If that is to your mind I think myself that 
it is eminently proper to make a wedding trip. Sup- 
pose you ask her.” 

“ It is impossible. To accomplish that — much as I 
wish it — does it not mean a trip to land — risk, perhaps, 
and more trouble for her? ” 

“ Bugaboos every one,” laughs Waters. “ Did I 
not tell you I have provided. If you two agree I will 
see that you are married in ten minutes.” 

He shows nothing of his pain. He is only genial 
and cordial. He has fought his battle and won his 
victory. And he never does anything by halves. He 
never recurs to bygones. He has saved them — she will 
be happy. As for him — well, he will see them safely 
united, and then life will be for him a mere existence, 
until it ends. He knows that, but he goes on to it. 
Such men are born once in a generation. 

“ I believe you can do even this miracle. But tell 
me how,” says Vanderveer. “ You have done every- 
thing for us. Do this, and I will believe that you are 
a magician who can work any wonder you attempt.” 

Not any whatever. There are some that I can 
not do. When she is your wife — well, I say nothing 
more. But I left a man in the boat, you recall. I in- 
troduced him to you as Mr. Russell. Very well. Mr. 
Russell is a Methodist clergyman.” 

“ The glory he is! Bring him up here, then. I will 
agree to be ready. Let me tell her.” 

Ten minutes later they leave the cabin and Waters 
is saying, as they go, Brauna on her father’s arm: 

“ I congratulate him, Mrs. Vanderveer. When you 
are in Bordeaux — or even Paris, you can repeat the 
ceremony more formally, if you choose. May you 
both be as happy as you wish. Now for the yacht.” 

They are married, Vanderveer and his magnificent 
queen \ She is glancing back at him from her father’s 
side as he walks behind with Waters. 


238 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


They go out into the dim night. Down at the far 
end of the sand strip they can still see the dark forms of 
the enemy. But between are the resolute men with 
Martin to lead them. Waters whistles to Martin, who 
soon appears. 

“ How is the lay of the land, Martin? They will 
give up the attempt, think you?” 

“ I fancy they have done so already,” answers Mar- 
tin. “ They have not moved yet. The other boat 
that has been patrolling the islet has landed and they 
are all together now, down by the end there. We have 
only to take to the boats.” 

Waters glances down again at the mass of men dim- 
ly seen between his point of view and the shining sea 
beyond. 

“ Are you sure they are all there, Martin? ” 

“ They have made no movement. I think they will 
not. I should have seen them if they had moved. 
There is no cover here to speak of.” 

“ Very well. Move down about half way with your 
men, spreading across the strip as you are now. Then 
if they move you can reach them quicker. Do not 
hesitate to shoot when you must. We will get to the 
boats. As soon as we can get one off and are on the 
way I will fire a shot and you can then follow in the 
others. Our force is strong enough for any emer- 
gency. Merki has seen you as he went back. He will 
know better than to attack, I think.” 

Nevertheless Waters is uneasy. As he turns away 
from Martin he glances up to the sky. • The pallid 
stars burning above him in the vault of the midnight 
make him shiver. He has lost all that life has for 
him. He has surrendered to destiny, and in doing it he 
has emptied his heart on these dreary sands. He 
glances about the night. The moaning, sighing ocean, 
monotonously smiting the shore, fills him with the 
unspeakable restlessness of its own unceasing discon- 
tent. And with it all he feels the chill of some ap- 
proaching disaster. 

But he sets his teeth and puts on his old smile as he 
turns to the group who are awaiting his leadership. 

“ All is well. Merki and his men are still there. 
Let us go.” 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


239 


The boats are on the landward side, except the one 
in which Waters and Vanderveer had come, which 
was left on the ocean side. It is this boat they will 
take. It is drawn well up out of the low surf where 
they have left it. 

But both Waters and Martin have been deceived. 
Hadrovitch Merki is not the kind of man Jo abandon 
his vengeance thus easily. He knows the force that 
he must meet if he attacks the cabin, but he is too 
cunning for that. While Martin believed that he and 
all his men were at the end of the sand strip they had 
made their plans. Merki himself and five or six of 
his fellows, daring Nihilists who will obey Merki be- 
cause they believe they are obeying Golfi, have thrown 
themselves on their faces, and even while the marriage 
was proceeding inside the cabin, they have crawled 
along the sands behind fringes of beach grass and 
hummocks of seaweed as rapidly as they could, until 
they are now crouching close by the place where two 
men guard Waters’s boat, as they have been directed. 
Merki and his men watch their chance, and at the very 
minute when the group is issuing from the cabin after 
the marriage, succeed in throwing themselves upon 
this guard and overpowering them before they can 
so much as give the alarm. They are dragged into 
the grass out of reach and securely bound and gagged. 
Then at a little distance in a sand hollow, screened by a 
little fringe of scrubby oak brush that had once formed 
a hunter’s blind, Merki waits for his prey. He has the 
matter accurately figured out. He knows very well 
that the steam yacht a few miles from the shore must 
be intended to take off the fugitives. He reasons that 
they will take the same boat in embarking that Wa- 
ters had brought here. The other two boats on the 
shore side Merki knows have been here before Waters 
could have arrived. 

His calculations are well timed. His men have 
hardly crouched out of sight here and received the des- 
perate orders of Merki to kill or capture, when the 
forms of the coming party are seen in the moonlight. 

Waters half way down sees nothing of his men. 
This warns him. 


240 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


“ Wait here an instant. I will go ahead and investi- 
gate,” he says to the others. Suiting his action to his 
word he advances toward the boats. Feeling sure 
there is something amiss, he proceeds with great cau- 
tion. 

Merki, seeing him approach, recognizes the terrible 
man who put him to his torture not a half-hour earlier. 
Fie whispers to his men, gloating in his heart at the 
prospect of getting even with this terrible enemy. 

When Waters has nearly reached the boat, Merki 
gives the signal to his men to rise up and rush. 

John Waters, stopping suddenly, knows in the flash 
of an eye what the situation is. Before the first man 
has advanced ten feet he is shot dead in his tracks. 
Another, attempting to go on, is winged by a bullet in 
his limb, and scrambles with a scream to cover again. 
Waters turns promptly, running back to the remainder 
of the party. 

‘‘ Strike across for the other boats,” he commands, 
in rapid accents. “ I will undertake to cover the re- 
treat.” . 

They instantly change their direction, and start 
across the sand ridge, toward the point where the 
other boats are drawn up. Merki, fearing they are 
successfully escaping, urges his men to the pursuit. 

‘‘ Rush down all and push off the nearest boat. I 
will be with you in a minute,” says Waters. They are 
panting with their exertions, and intense excitement. 
Vanderveer keeps closely by his wife’s side, Martin 
and Alvaroff aiding him in making a cover between 
her and the direction from which any bullets of the 
pursuers might be expected. 

T hey reach the shore. 

Vanderveer and Alvaroff seize the boat and attempt 
to push her off. She is stuck hard in the sand, and it 
takes all the strength of both and considerable time 
to accomplish this. Meanwhile Waters, pausing on 
the height of the ridge, kneels and watches. By the 
dim light he fancies he sees a figure crouching behind 
a sand heap, not far down the slope of the beach. Then 
he sees the flash of a weapon, and notes the sand fly 
close beside him where the btillet strikes. Instantly 


DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 


241 


he fires. There is a scream; he recognizes the voice 
of Merki. The figure struggles away out of sight, 
while two more shots pelt the sand near him. Then 
he hears Vanderveer calling him to come. They have 
succeeded in getting the boat into the water. 

He rises and dashes down to the beach. As he does 
so there is another shot from another nearer cover. 
He gives a little sharp cry, but represses it at once 
and reaches the boat. 

“ Push off. Take oars, Mr. Vanderveer,’' he says, 
staggering into the boat and sitting down. “ Keep 
low, Mrs. Vanderveer. The danger is almost over. 
They will not risk an assault. I have taught them a 
lesson, I fancy.” 

Vanderveer, a splendid oarsman, gives a half-dozen 
strong pulls at the oars, and the boat sweeps out upon 
the sea. More shots follow them, one of them splin- 
tering the rail close to Brauna’s head. Then they 
hear the shouts of Waters’s men, who, roused by the 
noises of the encounter, came rushing into view on the 
ridge. 

“ They will take care of the rest of it,” says Waters, 
confidently. ” Merki, if he still lives, knows that we 
are now beyond his reach. He will not care to risk 
anvthing by continuing the conflict with my men. 
The shooting has not been resumed, you see.” 

Pie is sitting pale in the moonlight in the stern of the 
boat. His face, on which the light falls, seems to 
Brauna almost seraphic. As the boat glides away 
and rounds the point of the islet, she is recalling 
what he has done for them all. 

Pie has been greater than Golfi, greater than Merki, 
greater than V anderveer. He has succeeded. 

As they keep on and out toward the steam yacht 
that they can discern in dark outline a mile away, 
the other boat has rounded the point and is coming 
after. It is filled with Waters’s men, who, meeting 
with no more obstacles, are hastening to rejoin their 
commander. 

They reach the yacht, Vanderveer, Alvaroff, and 
Martin assisting Brauna to the deck, and mounting 
th-re themselves. But Waters, as if in a dream, sits 
still in the boat. 


242 DOUBLE JEOPARDY. 

They looked down at him in some wonder until 
Vanderveer, noting how pale he is, leaps back into the 
boat, crying: 

“ My God, Mr. Waters, are you hurt? Come, help, 
Martin.” 

“ It is nothing, I think. That last bullet struck too 
near.” 

Alarmed, they help him to the deck, and then they 
notice the blood drenching his clothing. They lay 
him tenderly upon a sail, that is soon turning crimson 
in the moonlight. 

” Bring a light — and my chest of medicines,” says 
Alvaroff, kneeling beside him. 

It is late for medicines,” says Waters, faintly. “ I 
am glad it did not happen earlier. I have kept my 
word.” 

AlvarofI, with his experience, examining the wound, 
shakes his head. 

Tearful they kneel around him. As they sail out 
into the east, the shadow of the world’s last great mys- 
tery falls upon his face. 

“ He was a great heart,” says Vanderveer, with tears 
in his eyes. ” He died for us.” 

Brauna does not answer. She is looking into the 
glowing east. The tones of his voice ring in her ears, 
and again she remembers his look that night at Gray- 
stone as he said : 

” When my life can serve you, I shall lay it down as 
the most worthless thing I have.” 


THE END. 


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AUTHOR OF 

Mr. Barnes of New York, Etc. Etc. 


“ One of his cleverest stories.” — Brooklyn Eagle, March 2,i8g5. 

“A vivid and dashing sort of historical romance.” — San 
Francisco Chronicle, March ly, iSg^y. 

“Always true to his historical atmosphere.” — Syracuse Post, 
March ji, jSg^. 

“As interesting as his former works.” — The Argus, Albany, 
N. Y. 

“The story shows evidence of careful research and historic 
accuracy.” — Newark Daily Advertiser. 


THE HOME PUBLISHING COnPANY 

3 East Fourteenth Street 
NEW YORK 


NOW READY 


FOURTH EDITION OF 

SUSAN TURNBULL 

ALSO THIRD EDITION OF 

BALLYHO BEY 

(THE SEQUEL TO SUSAN TURNBULL) 

BY 

Archibald Clavering Gunter 

AUTHOR OF 

“Mr. Barnes of New York,” etc. 


In presenting these two novels, we feel assured that no 
stories of greater interest have ever been offered to those who 
read, not only for a strong story of the passions told with vigor, 
virility, and tenderness, but also for the charming episodes of 
manners and men of a most curious age. The canvas on which 
Mr. Gunter paints his vivid pen pictures is too large to permit 
of any synopsis that would do justice to these books. They 
contain, however, besides a remarkable love story, many thrilling 
episodes dealing with the first uprising in Greece, against the 
Turks, in 1770 ; a most charming picture of Havana when Spain 
received it from England ; a view of Colonial life in Florida 
and the West Indies in their glory." All these are interspersed 
by realistic descriptions of London modes, fashions, and frivol- 
ities, at the time when the lovely Miss Gunnings were the talk 
of that great city, when Walpole, Selwyn, and Sheridan were 
the wits and the elder Pitt and Robert, Lord Clive, the great 
stars in its political firmament. 


PRICE PER VOLUME 

Cloth, Gilt Top, $1,25 Paper, 50 Cents 

For sale by all booksellers or sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 
3 East Fourteenth Street - - New York 


Miss Dividends 


GUNTER’S GREAT NOVEL 

NOW IN ITS ninetieth THOUSANI) 


What the Eng^llsh Press Says of it 

“ The reader desirous of being taken out of him- 
self, can hardly do better than be introduced by 
‘Miss Dividends* into a succession of scenes full of 
startling interest.** 

— London Post, Nov. 30th, 1892. 

“The characters are so full of nervous energy 
and physical stir that they soon get to the reader’s 
nerves.** 

— The AthentBump Nov. 5th, 189a. 

“ Carries us breathless from first page to last. 

— London Globe, Dec. ad, 1892. 

“Especially fascinating and absorb. 

^JLondon Literary World, 
Oct. aStb, 1898. 


ANOTHER GREAT SUCCESS. 

Miss Nobody 
of Nowhere. 


BY 

ARCHIBALD C. GUNTER. 


“ Full of incident and excitement." — JVew York Herald, 

“The popularity of Mr. Gunter will now be greater 
than ever." — Tacoma Globe. 

“A story that will keep a man away 
from his meals.” — Omaha Bee, 

“ There is not a dull page in this volume." 

— Daily Chronicle, London, Jan. 14, 1891. 

Gunter scores another success." 

— Morning Advertiser, London, Dec. 16, 1890. 

“ Well worth reading." 

— Galignani, Paris, Nov. -24, 1890. 

“ Nothing could exceed its thrilling interest." 

— Glasgow Herald, Dec. 25, 1890. 

“ Gunter’s latest remarkable story will not disappoint 
his numerous admirers." 

— Newcastle Chronicle, Dec. 4, 1890. 


THE GIFT 

OF BONAPARTE 

ANOTHER GREAT NOVEL 

BY 

ROBERT SHORTZ 

Author of PASSING EMPEROR'' 

THE MOST SUCCESSFUL NEW PUBLICATION 
OF THE YEAR 


This extraordinary story shows that the 
smiles of beauty and the love of woman were 
potent, even amid the triumphs of Lodi and 
Areola, with the young Napoleon. 


Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 Cents 


For sale by all booksellers or sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

The Home Publishing Co. 

3 East 14th Street .NEW YORK 


That Frenchman! 


Now in iht Ont-Hundred-and-Twentuth-Thousand, 
American Edition. 

By the Author of “Mr. Barnes of New York." 

PAPER, 50 CENTS I CLOTH, 5t.8a 

“ The work exhibits the wonderful resources of tho 
author’s mind and the richness of his imaginative powers. 
The characters are forcibly drawn, the details worked up 
with surprising exactness, and the plot unraveled with 
scrupulous care ,” — San Francisco Post^ May 25, 1889. 


How I Escaped. 

By W. H. parkins. 

Edited by Archibald Clavering Gunter, 


PAPER, 50 CENTS; CLOTH, Sl.Oa 


• The best story of the war yet written ” 

•^Atlanta ConsiitiUimk 


The Love Adventures 
of Al-Mansur 


Translated from the original Persian 


By Omar-El-Aziz 


EDITED BY 

Archibald Clavering Gunter 


“ An oriental story. Weird and fascinating. It is a 
well-written novel and will please those who love to read 
of deep mystery and excitement.” 

— The Southern Star^ Atlanta, Ga. 

“Al-Mansur certainly had a very exciting and thrill- 
ing time to win the wife he wanted Not the 

least interesting part of the story is that which relates to 
the origin of Haroun A1 Rachid, which is a very entertain- 
ing little tale .” — The Milwaukee Journal. 

“ Full of the sparkle and action which are a feature of 
all Gunter’s writings.” 

— Daily Report^ San Francisco, Cal. 

Cloth, $1.00 Paper, 50c. 

Sent postpaid on receipt of price 

THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 

3 East 14th Street, New York 


My Official Wife. 


BY 

Coi. RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE. 


What America says of it. 

** One of the most entertaining books of the season. 
It reads strangely like one of Gunter’s masterpieces.” 

— Rochester Sunday Times, June 14th, 1891. 

“ In it the most exciting complications arise, making 
the story one of absorbing interest.” 

— Cleveland Plaindealer, June 14th, 1891. 

“ It would be hard to find a more exciting 
story than ‘ My Official Wife.* A series of events 
and situations which increase in excitement, 
mystery and danger. A book through which the 
reader wili dash with wild eagerness.** 

--NEW YORK HERALD, June 21st, 1891. 

What Europe says of it. 

Far beyond the average. Exceedingly powerful 
and exciting.” — Newcastle Chronicle, July loth, 1891. 

One of the ablest of its kind.” 

— Carlisle Patriot, July nth, 1891. 

“ Deserves to be one of the most popular tales of the 
season.” — The Morning Post, London, July 15th, 1891. 

“Plenty of dash and go.” 

— Saturday Review, July i8th, 1891. 

“Wonderfully clever,” 

^LONDON TIMES, August lOth, 1891 . 

“A delightful story.” — Tauchnitz, Leipsig. 


FOR SALE EVERYWHERE 

THE HOME PUBUSHIHG CO., 3 East 14th Stieet, E i 


Another Great Success 


Bob Covington 


BY 

Archibald Clavering Qunter 


“ Of intense interest .” — SL Louis Star 

“There is not a dull line between the covers.” 

— St. Louis Post-Despatch 

“ Better than ‘ Mr. Barnes of New 

York.’ ” — London Times 


Cloth, $1.25 Paper, 50 Cents 

Sent postpaid on receipt of price 


THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 

3 East Fourteenth Street 


NEW YORK 


Don Balasco 

OF Key West 


. . . BY . . . 

ARCHIBALD CLAVERINQ GUNTER 


Author of 

**Mr. Barnes of New York;'* “A Princess of Paris;" 
"The King's Stockbroker," Btc., Btc. 


The first thing we have to say after reading this marvelous 
story of adventure, intrigue, deception, Spanish brutality, 
Cuban patriotism, love and fidelity, sacrifice and heroism, and 
the inexcusably cold indifference of the United States Govern- 
ment : that cold and criminally apathetic must be the heart of 
the man who does not at once become an ardent sympathizer 
and a beneficent actor with the Cubans struggling for life and 

liberty The description of the West Indies 

by the gifted author — of the seas and islands, and of the people 
— American, Spanish, and Cuban — and of the climate, and of 
the manners, and customs, and temperaments of a volatile peo- 
ple,’ is a piece of word painting truly sublime and fascinating. 

— Christian Leader, Cincinnati, Ohio. 

Plenty of the romance, excitement, and surprise for which 
Mr. Gunter’s novels are noted . — Boston Journal. 

Have you read Mr. Archibald Clavering Gunter’s latest 
story? If not, get a copy at once at the nearest news-stand. 
Before you begin it, how’ever, eat a good square meal, for you 
will not eat again until you have finished the book. That is 
true of all his stories. — The Rochester Courier. 


Cloth, $1,25 


Paper, 50 Cents 


Sent postpaid on receipt of price 


THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 


3 EAST FOURTEENTH STREET, NEW YORK 


Baron Montez 

of Panama and Paris. 

A NOVEL. 

BY 

ARCHIBALD CLAVERING GUNTER, 

AUTHOR OF 

“Mr, Barnes of New York,” “Mr. Potter of Texas,” etc. 


** Here, certainly, is a rattling story.” 

— N. F. Times, June 5th, 1893. 

‘‘Mr. Gunter has written nothing better than the 
volume before us, and that is high praise indeed, for 
his writings in recent years have had a world-wide 
reputation.” 

— Ohio State Journal, Columbus, May 29, 1893. 

“ With the merit of continuous and thrilling interest.” 

— Chicago Times, May 27, 1893. 

“ The latest of Mr. Gunter’s popular romances will be 
read with interest by the many who have already followed 
the fortunes of ‘ Mr. Barnes of New York,’ and ‘ Mr. 
Potter of Texas.’ ” 

— The Times, Philadelphia, Pa., May 20, 1893. 

“ This is a story of thrilling interest.” 

'^Qhristian Leader^ Cincinnati, June 6, 1893. 


What the Press Say of 

His Cuban 

Sweetheart 

BY 

Col. RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE 

(Author of “ MY OFFICIAi. WIFE," Etc.) 

AND 

Mrs. ARCHIBALD CLAVERINQ GUNTER 


you have a leisure afternoon it will Bend the 
hours flying.” — New York Herald^ Feb. 8th, 1896. 

‘‘At this time the pictures of Cuban life and Spanish 
tyranny will be particularly interesting.” 

— Daily Advertiser^ Elmira, N. Y. 

** Thoroughly interesting, full of glowing color, 
artistically handled .” — Boston Ideas ^ Feb. 28th, 1896. 

“The reader will not be willing to put it down 
until it is finished.” 

— Picayune^ New Orleans, Feb. 9th, 1896. 
Paper, 50 Cents. Cloth, $1,00. 

Sent postpaid to any address on receipt of pnce. 

THE HOME. PUBLISHING COMPANY 

NEW YQRK, 







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